THE  SPIRIT 
OFAMERICA 


Henry  van  Dy 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   '   BOSTON  •    CHICAGO 
DALLAS   •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON   •    BOMBAY   •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AMERICA 


BY 
HENRY  VAN    DYKE 

Professor  of  English  at  Princeton  University 

Hyde  Lecturer,  University  of  Paris,  1908-9 

Hon.  LL.D.,  University  of  Geneva 

Hon.  F.R.S.L.,  London 


THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1912 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 
Bv  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  February,  1910,     Reprinted 
March,  October,  1910  ;  February,  1912. 


J.  8.  Cashing  Co.  —  Berwick  <k  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO  MADAME 
ELISABETH   SAINTE-MARIE  PERRIN,  N&E  BAZIN 

To  inscribe  your  name  upon  this  volume,  dear  Madame,  is  to 
recall  delightful  memories  of  my  year  in  France.  Your  sympathy 
encouraged  me  in  the  adventurous  choice  of  a  subject  so  large  and 
simple  for  a  course  of  lectures  at  the  Sorbonne.  While  they  were 
in  the  making,  you  acted  as  an  audience  of  one,  in  the  long  music- 
room  at  Hostel  and  in  the  forest  of  St.  Gervais,  and  gave  gentle 
counsels  of  wisdom  in  regard  to  the  points  likely  to  interest  and 
retain  a  larger  audience  of  Parisians  in  the  Amphitheatre  Richelieu. 
Then,  the  university  adventure  being  ended  without  mishap,  your 
skill  as  a  translator  admirably  clothed  the  lectures  in  your  own 
lucid  language,  and  sent  them  out  to  help  a  little  in  strengthening 
the  ties  of  friendship  between  France  and  America.  Grateful  for 
all  the  charming  hospitality  of  your  country,  which  made  my  year 
happy  and,  I  hope,  not  unfruitful,  I  dedicate  to  you  this  book  on 
the  Spirit  of  America,  because  you  have  done  so  much  to  make  me 
understand,  appreciate,  and  admire  the  true  Spirit  of  France. 

HENRY  VAN  DYKE. 


PREFACE 

THIS  book  contains  the  first  seven  of  a  series  of 
twenty-six  conferences ',  given  in  the  winter  of  1908— 
1909,  on  the  Hyde  Foundation,  at  the  University 
of  Paris,  and  repeated  in  part  at  other  universities 
of  France.  They  were  delivered  in  English,  and 
afterward  translated  into  French  and  published 
under  the  title  of  Le  Gtnie  de  rAm/rique.  In 
making  this  American  edition  it  has  not  seemed 
worth  while  to  attempt  to  disguise  the  fact  that 
these  chapters  were  prepared  as  lectures  to  be 
given  to  a  French  audience,  and  that  their  purpose, 
in  accordance  with  the  generous  design  of  the 
founder  of  the  chair,  was  to  promote  an  intelligent 
sympathy  between  France  and  the  United  States. 
If  the  book  finds  readers  among  my  countrymen, 
I  beg  them,  as  they  read,  to  remember  its  origin. 
Perhaps  it  may  have  an  interest  of  its  own,  as  a 
report,  made  in  Paris,  of  the  things  that  seem  vital, 
significant,  and  creative  in  the  life  and  character 
of  the  American  people. 


vil 


CONTENTS 

PACK 

INTRODUCTION .  xi 

THE  SOUL  OF  A  PEOPLE     .        ...        •    .  •  3 

SELF-RELIANCE  AND  THE  REPUBLIC    .        .        •  31 

FAIR  PLAY  AND  DEMOCRACY      .        *        •        •  71 

WILL-POWER,  WORK,  AND  WEALTH    .        .        .  ^  .  113 

COMMON  ORDER  AND  SOCIAL  COOPERATION       •-  .  *$i 

PERSONAL  DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION         •  .  195 

SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE    ,        •       «  •  239 


INTRODUCTION 

THERE  is  an  ancient  amity  between  France  and 
America,  which  is  recorded  in  golden  letters  in  the 
chronicles  of  human  liberty.  In  one  of  the  crowded 
squares  of  New  York  there  stands  a  statue  of  a  young 
nobleman,  slender,  elegant,  and  brave,  springing  for 
ward  to  offer  his  sword  to  the  cause  of  freedom.  The 
name  under  that  figure  is  La  Fayette.  In  one  of  the 
broad  avenues  of  Paris  there  stands  a  statue  of  a 
plain  gentleman,  grave,  powerful,  earnest,  sitting  his 
horse  like  a  victor  and  lifting  high  his  sword  to  salute 
the  star  of  France.  The  name  under  that  figure  is 
Washington. 

It  is  well  that  in  both  lands  such  a  friendship  be 
tween  two  great  peoples  should  be 

"Immortalized  by  art's  immortal  praise." 

It  is  better  still  that  it  should  be  warmed  and  strength 
ened  by  present  efforts  for  the  common  good :  that 
the  world  should  see  the  two  great  republics  standing 
together  for  justice  and  fair  play  at  Algeciras,  work 
ing  together  for  the  world's  peace  at  the  Congress  of 
the  Hague. 


INTRODUCTION 

But  in  order  that  a  friendship  like  this  should 
really  continue  and  increase,  there  must  be  something 
more  than  a  sentimental  sympathy.  There  must  be 
a  mutual  comprehension,  a  real  understanding,  be 
tween  the  two  peoples.  Romantic  love,  the  little 
Amor  with  the  bow  and  arrows,  may  be  as  blind  as 
the  painters  and  novelists  represent  him.  But  true 
friendship,  the  strong  god  Amicitia,  is  open-eyed  and 
clear-sighted.  So  long  as  Frenchmen  insist  upon 
looking  at  America  merely  as  the  country  of  the  Sky 
scraper  and  the  Almighty  Dollar,  so  long  as  Ameri 
cans  insist  upon  regarding  France  merely  as  the  home 
of  the  Yellow  Novel  and  the  Everlasting  Dance,  so 
long  will  it  be  difficult  for  the  ancient  amity  between 
these  two  countries  to  expand  and  deepen  into  a 
true  and  vital  concord. 

France  and  America  must  know  each  other  better. 
They  must  learn  to  look  each  into  the  other's  mind, 
to  read  each  the  other's  heart.  They  must  recognize 
each  other  less  by  their  foibles  and  more  by  their 
faiths,  less  by  the  factors  of  national  weakness  and 
more  by  the  elements  of  national  strength,  Then, 
indeed,  I  hope  and  believe  they  will  be  good  and 
faithful  friends. 

It  is  to  promote  this  serious  and  noble  purpose 
that  an  American  gentleman,  Mr.  James  Hazen 
Hyde,  has  founded  two  chairs,  one  at  the  University 
of  Paris,  and  one  at  Harvard  University,  for  an  an- 


INTRODUCTION 

nual  interchange  of  professors,  (and  possibly  of 
ideas,)  between  France  and  America.  Through 
this  generous  arrangement  we  have  had  the  benefit 
of  hearing,  in  the  United  States,  MM.  Doumic,  Rod, 
de  Re*gnier,  Gaston  Deschamps,  Hugues  Le  Roux, 
Mabilleau,  Anatole  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Millet,  Le  Braz, 
Tardieu,  and  the  Vicomte  d'Avenel.  On  the  same 
basis  Messrs.  Barrett  Wendell,  Santayana,  Coolidge, 
and  Baker  have  spoken  at  the  Sorbonne  and  at  the 
other  French  Universities.  This  year  Harvard  has 
called  me  from  the  chair  of  English  Literature  at 
Princeton  University,  and  the  authorities  of  the 
Sorbonne  have  graciously  accorded  me  the  hospi 
tality  of  this  Amphitheatre  Richelieu,  to  take  my 
small  part  in  this  international  mission. 

Do  you  ask  for  my  credentials  as  an  ambassador  ? 
Let  me  omit  such  formalities  as  academic  degrees, 
professorships,  and  doctorates,  and  present  my  claims 
in  more  simple  and  humble  form.  A  family  residence 
of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  in  America,  whither  my 
ancestors  came  from  Holland  in  1652 ;  a  working  life 
of  thirty  years  which  has  taken  me  among  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  men,  in  almost  all  the  states  of  the 
Union  from  Maine  to  Florida  and  from  New  York  to 
California;  a  personal  acquaintance  with  all  the 
Presidents  except  one  since  Lincoln;  a  friendship 
with  many  woodsmen,  hunters,  and  fishermen  in 
the  forests  where  I  spend  the  summers;  an  entire 


INTRODUCTION 

independence  of  any  kind  of  political,  ecclesiastical, 
or  academic  partisanship ;  and  some  familiarity  with 
American  literature,  its  origins,  and  its  historical  re 
lations,  —  these  are  all  the  claims  that  I  can  make  to 
your  attention.  They  are  small  enough,  to  be  sure, 
but  such  as  they  are  you  may  find  in  them  a  partial 
explanation  of  the  course  which  these  lectures  are  to 
take. 

You  will  understand  that  if  I  have  chosen  a  subject 
which  is  not  strictly  academic,  it  is  because  the  best 
part  of  my  life  has  been  spent  out  of  doors  among 
men.  You  will  perceive  that  my  failure  to  speak  of 
Boston  as  the  centre  of  the  United  States  may  have 
some  connection  with  the  accident  that  I  am  not  a 
Bostonian.  You  will  account  for  the  absence  of  a 
suggestion  that  any  one  political  party  is  the  only 
hope  of  the  Republic  by  the  fact  that  I  am  not  a  poli 
tician.  You  will  detect  in  my  attitude  towards  litera 
ture  the  naive  conviction  that  it  is  not  merely  an  art 
existing  for  art's  sake,  but  an  expression  of  the  inner 
life  and  a  factor  in  the  moral  character.  Finally,  you 
will  conclude,  with  your  French  logicality  of  mind, 
that  I  must  be  an  obstinate  idealist,  because  I  am 
going  to  venture  to  lecture  to  you  on  The  Spirit  of 
America.  That  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  I  believe 
man  is  led  by  an  inner  light,  and  that  the  ideals, 
moral  convictions,  and  vital  principles  of  a  people 
are  the  most  important  factors  in  their  history.- 


INTRODUCTION 

All  these  things  are  true.  They  cannot  be  denied 
or  concealed.  I  would  willingly  confess  them  and  a 
hundred  more,  if  I  might  contribute  but  a  little 
towards  the  purpose  of  these  lectures :  to  help  some 
of  the  people  of  France  to  understand  more  truly 
the  real  people  of  America,  —  a  people  of  idealists 
engaged  in  a  great  practical  task. 


I 

THE  SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 


THE  SOUL  OF  A  PEOPLE 

THERE  is  a  proverb  which  affirms  that  in  order 
to  know  a  man  you  have  only  to  travel  with  him  for 
a  week.  Almost  all  of  us  have  had  experiences, 
sometimes  happy  and  sometimes  the  reverse,  which 
seem  to  confirm  this  saying. 

A  journey  in  common  is  a  sort  of  involuntary 
confessional.  There  is  a  certain  excitement,  a 
confusion  and  quickening  of  perceptions  and  sen 
sations,  in  the  adventures,  the  sudden  changes, 
the  new  and  striking  scenes  of  travel.  The  bonds 
of  habit  are  loosened.  Impulses  of  pleasure  and 
of  displeasure,  suddenly  felt,  make  themselves  sur 
prisingly  visible.  Wishes  and  appetites  and  preju 
dices  which  are  usually  dressed  in  a  costume  of 
words  so  conventional  as  to  amount  to  a  disguise 
now  appear  unmasked,  and  often  in  very  scanty 
costume,  as  if  they  had  been  suddenly  called  from 
their  beds  by  an  alarm  of  fire  on  a  steamboat,  or,  to 
use  a  more  agreeable  figure,  by  the  announcement 
in  a  hotel  on  the  Righi  of  approaching  sunrise. 

3 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

There  is  another  th;/ig  which  plays,  perhaps,  a 
part  in  this  power  of  travel  to  make  swift  disclosures. 
I  mean  the  vague  sense  of  release  from  duties  and  re 
straints  which  comes  to  one  who  is  away  from  home. 
Much  of  the  outward  form  of  our  daily  conduct  is 
regulated  by  the  structure  and  operation  of  the 
social  machinery  in  which  we  quite  inevitably  find 
our  place.  But  when  all  this  is  left  behind,  when 
a  man  no  longer  feels  the  pressure  of  the  neighbour 
ing  wheels,  the  constraint  of  the  driving-belt  which 
makes  them  all  move  together,  nor  the  restraint  of 
the  common  task  to  which  the  collective  force  of  all 
is  applied,  he  is  "outside  of  the  machine." 

The  ordinary  sight-seeing,  uncommercial  traveller 
—  the  tourist,  the  globe-trotter  —  is  not  usually  a 
person  who  thinks  much  of  his  own  responsibilities, 
however  conscious  he  may  be  of  his  own  impor 
tance.  His  favourite  proverb  is,  "When  you  are  in 
Rome,  do  as  the  Romans  do."  But  in  the  appli 
cation  of  the  proverb,  he  does  not  always  inquire 
whether  the  particular  thing  which  he  is  invited  to 
do  is  done  by  the  particular  kind  of  Roman  that 
he  would  like  to  be,  if  he  lived  in  Rome,  or  by  some 
other  kind  of  Roman  quite  different,  even  contrary. 
He  is  liberated.  He  is  unaccountable.  He  is  a 
butterfly  visiting  a  strange  garden.  He  has  only  to 
enjoy  himself  according  to  his  caprice  and  to  accept 
the  invitations  of  the  flowers  which  please  him  most. 

4 


THE   SOUL   OF  A  PEOPLE 

This  feeling  of  irresponsibility  in  travel  corre 
sponds  somewhat  to  the  effect  of  wine.  The  tongue 
is  loosened.  Unexpected  qualities  and  inclinations 
are  unconsciously  confessed.  A  new  man,  hitherto 
unknown,  appears  upon  the  scene.  And  this  new 
man  often  seems  more  natural,  more  spontaneous, 
more  vivid,  than  our  old  acquaintance.  "At  last," 
we  say  to  ourselves,  "we  know  the  true  inwardness, 
the  real  reality  of  this  fellow.  He  is  not  acting  a 
part  now.  He  is  coming  to  the  surface.  We  see 
what  a  bad  fellow,  or  what  a  good  fellow,  he  is.  In 
vino  et  in  viator e  veritas !" 

But  is  it  quite  correct,  after  all,  this  first  impres 
sion  that  travel  is  the  great  revealer  of  character? 
Is  it  the  essential  truth,  the  fundamental  truth,  la 
vraie  verite,  that  we  discover  through  this  glass? 
Or  is  it,  rather,  a  novel  aspect  of  facts  which  are  real 
enough,  indeed,  but  not  fundamental,  —  an  aspect 
so  novel  that  it  presents  itself  as  more  important 
than  it  really  is?  To  put  the  question  in  brief, 
and  in  a  practical  form,  is  a  railway  train  the  place 
to  study  character,  or  is  it  only  a  place  to  observe 
characteristics  ? 

There  is,  of  course,  a  great  deal  of  complicated 
and  quarrelsome  psychology  involved  in  this  seem 
ing  simple  question,  —  for  example,  the  point  at 
issue  between  the  determinists  and  libertarians,  the 
philosophers  of  the  unconscious  and  the  philoso- 

5 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

phers  of  the  ideal,  —  all  of  which  I  will  prudently 
pass  by,  in  order  to  make  a  very  practical  and 
common-sense  observation. 

Ordinary  travel  usually  obscures  and  confuses 
quite  as  much  as  it  reveals  in  the  character  of  the 
traveller.  His  excitement,  his  moral  detachment, 
his  intellectual  dislocation,  unless  he  is  a  person  of 
extraordinary  firmness  and  poise,  are  apt  to  make 
him  lose  himself  much  more  than  they  help  him 
to  find  himself.  In  these  strange  and  transient 
experiences  his  action  lacks  meaning  and  relation. 
He  is  carried  away.  He  is  uprooted.  He  is  swept 
along  by  the  current  of  external  novelty.  This 
may  be  good  for  him  or  bad  for  him.  J  do  not  ask 
this  question.  I  am  not  moralizing.  I  am  observ 
ing.  The  point  is  that  under  these  conditions  I  do 
not  see  the  real  man  more  clearly,  but  less  clearly. 
To  paraphrase  a  Greek  saying,  I  wish  not  to  study 
Philip  when  he  is  a  little  exhilarated,  but  Philip 
when  he  is  sober:  not  when  he  is  at  a  Persian 
banquet,  but  when  he  is  with  his  Macedonians. 

Moreover,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  native  environ 
ment,  the  chosen  or  accepted  task,  the  definite  place 
in  the  great  world-work,  is  part  of  the  man  himself. 
There  are  no  human  atoms.  Relation  is  insepa 
rable  from  quality.  Absolute  isolation  would  be  in 
visibility.  Displacement  is  deformity.  You  remem 
ber  what  Emerson  says  in  his  poem,  Each  and  All:  — • 

6 


THE   SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 

"The  delicate  shells  lay  on  the  shore: 
The  bubbles  of  the  latest  wave 
Fresh  pearls  to  their  enamel  gave, 
And  the  bellowing  of  the  savage  sea 
Greeted  their  safe  escape  to  me. 
I  wiped  away  the  weeds  and  foam, 
I  fetched  my  sea-born  treasures  home, 
But  the  poor,  unsightly,  noisome  things 
'    Had  left  their  beauty  on  the  shore 
With  the  sun  and  the  sand  and  the  wild  uproar." 

So  I  would  see  my  man  where  he  belongs,  in  the 
midst  of  the  things  which  have  produced  him  and 
which  he  has  helped  to  produce.  I  would  under 
stand  something  of  his  relation  to  them.  I  would 
watch  him  at  his  work,  the  daily  labour  which  not 
only  earns  his  living  but  also  moulds  and  forms  his 
life.  I  would  see  how  he  takes  hold  of  it,  with 
reluctance  or  with  alacrity,  and  how  he  regards  it, 
with  honour  or  with  contempt.  I  would  consider 
the  way  in  which  he  uses  its  tangible  results;  to 
what  purpose  he  applies  them;  for  what  objects  he 
spends  the  fruit  of  his  toil;  what  kind  of  bread 
he  buys  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow  or  his  brain. 
I  would  trace  in  his  environment  the  influence  of 
those  who  have  gone  before  him.  I  would  read 
the  secrets  of  his  heart  in  the  uncompleted  projects 
which  he  forms  for  those  who  are  to  come  after 
him.  In  short,  I  would  see  the  roots  from  which 
he  springs,  and  the  hopes  in  which  his  heart  flowers. 

7 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Thus,  and  thus  only,  the  real  man,  the  entire  man, 
would  become  more  clear  to  me.  He  might  appear 
more  or  less  admirable.  I  might  like  him  more,  or 
less.  That  would  make  no  difference.  The  one 
thing  that  is  sure  is  that  I  should  know  him  better. 
I  should  know  the  soul  of  the  man. 

If  this  is  true,  then,  of  the  individual,  how  much 
more  is  it  true  of  a  nation,  a  people?  The  inward 
life,  the  real  life,  the  animating  and  formative  life 
of  a  people  is  infinitely  difficult  to  discern  and 
understand. 

There  are  a  hundred  concourses  of  travel  in 
modern  Europe  where  you  may  watch  "the  passing 
show"  of  all  nations  with  vast  amusement,  —  on 
the  Champs-Ely  sees  in  May  or  June,  in  the  park 
of  Aioc-les-Bains  in  midsummer,  at  the  Italian 
Lakes  in  autumn,  in  the  colonnade  of  Shepherd's 
Hotel  at  Cairo  in  January  or  February,  on  the 
Pincian  Hill  at  Rome  in  March  or  April.  Take 
your  seats,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  at  this  continuous 
performance,  this  international  vaudeville,  and  ob 
serve  British  habits,  French  manners,  German  cus 
toms,  American  eccentricities,  whatever  interests 
you  in  the  varied  entertainment.  But  do  not 
imagine  that  in  this  way  you  will  learn  to  know 
the  national  personality  of  England,  or  France,  or 
Germany,  or  America.  That  is  something  which 
is  never  exported. 

8 


THE   SOUL   OF   A   PEOPLE 

Some  drop  of  tincture  or  extract  of  it,  indeed, 
may  pass  from  one  land  to  another  in  a  distinct 
and  concentrated  individuality,  as  when  a  La 
fayette  comes  to  America,  or  a  Franklin  to  France. 
Some  partial  portrait  and  imperfect  image  of  it, 
indeed,  may  be  produced  in  literature.  And  there 
the  reader  who  is  wise  enough  to  separate  the  head 
dress  from  the  head,  and  to  discern  the  figure  be 
neath  the  costume,  may  trace  at  least  some  features 
of  the  real  life  represented  and  expressed  in  poem 
or  romance,  in  essay  or  discourse.  But  even  this 
literature,  in  order  to  be  vitally  understood,  must  be 
interpreted  in  relation  to  the  life  of  the  men  who 
have  produced  it  and  the  men  for  whom  it  was 
produced. 

Authors  are  not  algebraic  quantities,  —  X,  Y,  Z, 
&c.  They  express  spiritual  actions  and  reac 
tions  in  the  midst  of  a  given  environment.  What 
they  write  is  in  one  sense  a  work  of  art,  and  there 
fore  to  be  judged  accurately  by  the  laws  of  that  art. 
But  when  this  judgment  is  made,  when  the  book 
has  been  assigned  its  rank  according  to  its  sub 
stance,  its  structure,  its  style,  there  still  remains  an 
other  point  of  view  fiom  which  it  is  to  be  considered. 
The  book  is  a  document  of  life.  It  is  the  embodi 
ment  of  a  spiritual  protest,  perhaps;  or  it  is  the 
unconscious  confession  of  an  intellectual  ambition; 
or  it  is  an  appeal  to  some  popular  sentiment;  or  it 

9 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

is  the  expression  of  the  craving  for  some  particular 
form  of  beauty  or  joy;  or  it  is  a  tribute  to  some 
personal  or  social  excellence;  or  it  is  the  record  of 
some  vision  of  perfection  seen  in 

"The  light  that  never  was,  on  sea  or  land, 
The  consecration,  and  the  poet's  dream." 

In  every  case,  it  is  something  that  comes  out  of 
a  heritage  of  ideals  and  adds  to  them. 

The  possessor  of  this  heritage  is  the  soul  of  a 
people.  This  soul  of  a  people  lives  at  home. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  America  has  been  im 
perfectly  understood,  and  in  some  respects  positively 
misunderstood  in  Europe.  The  American  tourists, 
who  have  been  numerous  (and  noticeable)  on  all 
the  European  highways  of  pleasure  and  byways  of 
curiosity  during  the  last  forty  years,  have  made  a 
vivid  impression  on  the  people  of  the  countries  which 
they  have  visited.  They  are  recognized.  They  are 
remembered.  It  is  not  necessary  to  inquire  whether 
this  recognition  contains  more  of  admiration  or  of 
astonishment,  whether  the  forms  which  it  often  takes 
are  flattering  or  the  reverse.  On  this  point  I  am 
sufficiently  American  myself  to  be  largely  indiffer 
ent.  But  the  point  on  which  I  feel  strongly  is  that 
the  popular  impression  of  America  which  is  derived 
only  or  chiefly  from  the  observation  of  American 
travellers  is,  and  must  be,  deficient,  superficial,  and 
in  many  ways  misleading. 

10 


THE   SOUL   OF   A   PEOPLE 

If  this  crowd  of  American  travellers  were  a  hun 
dred  times  as  numerous,  it  would  still  fail  to  be 
representative,  it  would  still  be  unable  to  reveal  the 
Spirit  of  America,  just  because  it  is  composed  of 
travellers. 

I  grant  you  that  it  includes  many,  perhaps  almost 
all,  of  the  different  types  and  varieties  of  Americans, 
good,  bad,  and  mediocre.  You  will  find  in  this 
crowd  some  very  simple  people  and  some  very  com 
plicated  people ;  country  folk  and  city  folk ;  strenu 
ous  souls  who  come  to  seek  culture  and  relaxed 
souls  who  come  to  spend  money;  millionnaires  and 
school-teachers,  saloon-keepers  and  university  pro 
fessors;  men  of  the  East  and  men  of  the  West  ; 
Yankees,  Knickerbockers,  Hoosiers,  Cavaliers,  and 
Cowboys.  Surely,  you  say,  from  such  a  large  col 
lection  of  samples  one  ought  to  be  able  to  form  an 
adequate  judgment  of  the  stuff. 

But  no  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  larger  the  collection 
of  samples,  seen  under  the  detaching  and  exagger 
ating  conditions  of  travel,  the  more  confused  and 
the  less  sane  and  penetrating  your  impression  will 
be,  unless  by  some  other  means  you  have  obtained 
an  idea  of  the  vital  origin,  the  true  relation,  the 
common  inheritance,  and  the  national  unity  of  these 
strange  and  diverse  travellers  who  come  from  beyond 
the  sea. 

Understand,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  European 
ii 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

scholars  and  critics  have  not  studied  American 
affairs  and  institutions  to  advantage  and  thrown  a 
clear  light  of  intelligence,  of  sympathy,  of  criticism, 
upon  the  history  and  life  of  the  United  States.  A 
philosophical  study  like  that  of  Tocqueville,  a  po 
litical  study  like  that  of  Mr.  James  Bryce,  a  series 
of  acute  social  observations  like  those  of  M.  Paul 
Bourget,  M.  Andre*  Tardieu,  M.  Paul  Boutmy, 
M.  Weiller,  an  industrial  study  like  that  of  M. 
d'Avenel,  or  a  religious  study  like  that  of  the  Abbe 
Klein,  —  these  are  of  great  value.  But  they  are 
quite  apart,  quite  different,  from  the  popular  im 
pression  of  America  in  Europe,  an  impression  which 
is,  and  perhaps  to  some  extent  must  naturally  be, 
based  upon  the  observations  of  Americans  en  v&yage, 
and  which  by  some  strange  hypnotism  sometimes 
imposes  itself  for  a  while  upon  the  American  travel 
lers  themselves. 

I  call  this  the  international  postal-card  view  of 
America.  It  is  often  amusing,  occasionally  irritat 
ing,  and  almost  always  confusing.  It  has  flashes  of 
truth  in  it.  It  renders  certain  details  with  the  ac 
curacy  of  a  kodak.  But,  like  a  picture  made  by 
the  kodak,  it  has  a  deficient  perspective  and  no 
atmosphere.  The  details  do  not  fit  together.  They 
are  irrelevant.  They  are  often  contradictory. 

For  example,  you  will  hear  statements  made  about 
America  like  the  following :  — 

12 


THE   SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 

'The  Americans  worship  the  Almighty  Dollar  more  than 
the  English  revere  the  Ponderous  Pound  or  the  French  adore 
les  beaux  ecus  sonnants.  Per  contra,  the  Americans  are  foolish 
spendthrifts  who  have  no  sense  of  the  real  value  of  money.' 

'America  is  a  country  without  a  social  order.  It  is  a 
house  of  one  story,  without  partitions,  in  which  all  the  in 
habitants  are  on  a  level.  Per  contra,  America  is  the  place 
where  class  distinctions  are  most  sharply  drawn,  and  where 
the  rich  are  most  widely  and  irreconcilably  separated  from  the 
poor/ 

'The  United  States  is  a  definite  experiment  in  political 
theory,  which  was  begun  in  1776,  and  which  has  succeeded 
because  of  its  philosophical  truth  and  logical  consistency. 
Per  contra,  the  United  States  is  an  accident,  a  nation  born 
of  circumstances  and  held  together  by  good  fortune,  without 
real  unity  or  firm  foundation/ 

'The  American  race  is  a  new  creation,  aboriginal,  autoch 
thonous,  which  ought  to  express  itself  in  totally  new  and 
hitherto  unheard-of  forms  of  art  and  literature.  Per  contra, 
there  is  no  American  race,  only  a  vast  and  absurd  melange  of 
incongruous  elements,  cast  off  from  Europe  by  various  politi 
cal  convulsions,  and  combined  by  the  pressure  of  events,  not 
into  a  people,  but  into  a  mere  population,  which  can  never 
have  a  literature  or  an  art  of  its  own/ 

'America  is  a  lawless  land,  where  every  one  does  what  he 
likes  and  pays  no  attention  to  the  opinion  of  his  neighbour. 
Per  contra,  America  is  a  land  of  prejudice,  of  interference,  of 
restriction,  where  personal  liberty  is  constantly  invaded  by  the 
tyranny  of  narrow  ideas  and  traditions,  embodied  in  ridicu 
lous  laws  which  tell  a  man  how  many  hours  a  day  he  may 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

work,  what  he  may  drink,  how  he  may  amuse  himself  on 
Sunday,  and  how  fast  he  may  drive  his  automobile.' 

'Finally,  America  is  the  home  of  materialism,  a  land  of 
crude,  practical  worldliness,  unimaginative,  irreverent,  without 
religion.  But  per  contra,  America  is  the  last  refuge  of  super 
stition,  of  religious  enthusiasm,  of  unenlightened  devotion, 
even  of  antique  bigotry,  a  land  of  spiritual  dreamers  and 
fanatics,  who,  as  Brillat-Savarin  said,  have  "forty  religions 
and  only  one  sauce."' 

Have  I  sharpened  these  contrasts  and  contradic 
tions  a  little  ?  Have  I  overaccented  the  inconsisten 
cies  in  this  picture  postal-card  view  of  America? 

Perhaps  so.  Yet  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the 
main  features  of  this  incoherent  view  are  familiar. 
We  see  the  reflection  of  them  in  the  singular  choice 
and  presentation  of  the  rare  items  of  American 
news  which  find  their  way  into  the  columns  of  Euro 
pean  newspapers.  We  recognize  them  in  the  talk 
of  the  street  and  of  the  table-d'hdte. 

I  remember  very  well  the  gravity  and  earnestness 
with  which  a  learned  German  asked  me,  some  years 
ago,  whether,  if  he  went  to  America,  it  would  be  a 
serious  disadvantage  to  him  in  the  first  social  circles 
to  eat  with  his  knife  at  the  dinner-table.  He  was 
much  relieved  by  my  assurance  that  no  one  would 
take  notice  of  it. 

I  recall  also  the  charming  naivete  with  which  an 
English  lady  inquired,  "Have  you  any  good  writers 

14 


THE   SOUL   OF   A   PEOPLE 

in  the  States?"  The  answer  was:  "None  to  speak 
of.  We  import  most  of  our  literature  from  Aus 
tralia,  by  way  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.'7 

Sometimes  we  are  asked  whether  we  do  not  find 
it  a  great  disadvantage  to  have  no  language  of  our 
own;  or  whether  the  justices  of  the  Supreme  Court 
are  usually  persons  of  good  education;  or  whether 
we  often  meet  Buffalo  Bill  in  New  York  society; 
or  whether  Shakespeare  or  Bernard  Shaw  is  most 
read  in  the  States.  To  such  inquiries  we  try  to 
return  polite  answers,  although  our  despair  of  con 
veying  the  truth  sometimes  leads  us  to  clothe  it  in  a 
humorous  disguise. 

But  these  are  minor  matters.  It  is  when  we  are 
seriously  interrogated  about  the  prospect  of  a 
hereditary  nobility  in  America,  created  from  the 
descendants  of  railway  princes,  oil  magnates,  and 
iron  dukes;  or  when  we  are  questioned  as  to  the 
probability  that  the  next  President,  or  the  one  after 
the  next,  may  assume  an  imperial  state  and  crown, 
or  perhaps  that  he  may  abolish  the  Constitution  and 
establish  communism ;  or  when  we  are  asked  whether 
the  Germans,  or  the  Irish,  or  the  Scandinavians,  or 
the  Jews  are  going  to  dominate  the  United  States 
in  the  twentieth  century;  or  when  we  are  told  that 
the  industrial  and  commercial  forces  which  created 
the  republic  are  no  longer  cooperant  but  divisive, 
and  that  the  nation  must  inevitably  split  into  several 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

fragments,  more  or  less  hostile,  but  certainly  rival; 
it  is  when  such  question's  are  gravely  asked,  that  we 
begin  to  feel  that  there  are  some  grave  misconcep 
tions,  or  at  least  that  there  is  something  important 
lacking,  in  the  current  notion  of  how  America  came 
into  being  and  what  America  really  is. 

I  believe  that  the  thing  which  is  lacking  is  the 
perception  of  the  Spirit  of  America  as  the  creative 
force,  the  controlling  power,  the  characteristic  ele 
ment  of  the  United  States. 

The  republic  is  not  an  accident,  happy  or  other 
wise.  It  is  not  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  emigrants. 
j  It  is  not  the  logical  demonstration  of  an  abstract 
\  theory  of  government.  It,  is  the  development  of  a 
jlife, — an  inward  life  of  ideals,  sentiments,  ruling 
/  passions,  embodying  itself  in  an  outward  life  of 
forms,  customs,  institutions,  relations,  —  a  process 
as  vital,  as  spontaneous,  as  inevitable,  as  the  growth 
of  a  child  into  a  man.  The  soul  of  a  people  has 
made  the  American  nation. 

It  is  of  this  Spirit  of  America,  in  the  past  and  in 
the  present,  and  of  some  of  its  expressions,  that  I 
would  speak  in  these  conferences.  I  speak  of  it  in 
the  past  because  I  believe  that  we  must  know  some 
thing  of  its  origins,  its  early  manifestations,  its  ex 
periences,  and  its  conflicts  in  order  to  understand 
what  it  truly  signifies. 

The  spirit  of  a  people,  like  the  spirit  of  a  man, 
16 


THE   SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 

is  influenced  by  heredity.  But  this  heredity  is  not 
merely  physical,  it  is  spiritual.  There  is  a  trans 
mission  of  qualities  through  the  soul  as  well  as 
through  the  flesh.  There  is  an  intellectual  pater 
nity.  There  is  a  kinship  of  the  mind  as  well  as  of 
the  body.  The  soul  of  the  people  in  America  to-day 
is  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  soul  of  the  people 
which  made  America  in  the  beginning. 

Just  at  what  moment  of  time  this  soul  came  into 
being,  I  do  not  know.  Some  theologians  teach  that 
there  is  a  certain  point  at  which  the  hidden  physical 
life  of  an  infant  receives  a  donum  of  spiritual  life 
which  makes  it  a  person,  a  human  being.  I  do  not 
imagine  that  we  can  fix  any  such  point  in  the  con 
ception  and  gestation  of  a  people.  Certainly  it 
would  be  difficult  to  select  any  date  of  which  we 
could  say  with  assurance,  "On  that  day,  in  that 
year,  the  exiles  of  England,  of  Scotland,  of  Holland, 
of  France,  of  Germany,  on  the  shores  of  the  new 
world,  became  one  folk,  into  which  the  Spirit  of 
America  entered."  But  just  as  certainly  it  is  clear 
that  the  mysterious  event  came  to  pass.  And  be 
yond  a  doubt  the  time  of  its  occurrence  was  long 
before  the  traditional  birthday  of  the  republic,  the 
4th  of  July,  1776. 

The  Declaration  of  Independence  did  not  create 
—  it  did  not  even  pretend  to  create  —  a  new  state 
of  things.  It  simply  recognized  a  state  of  things 
c  17 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

already  existing.  It  declared  "that  these  United 
Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  free  and  in 
dependent  States." 

The  men  who  framed  this  declaration  were  not 
ignorant,  nor  careless  in  the  use  of  words.  When 
practically  the  same  men  were  called,  a  few  years 
later,  to  frame  a  constitution  for  the  United  States, 
they  employed  quite  different  language:  "We,  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  ...  do  ordain  and 
establish  this  Constitution."  That  is  the  language 
of  creation.  It  assumes  to  bring  into  being  some 
thing  which  did  not  previously  exist.  But  the  lan 
guage  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  is  the 
language  of  recognition.  It  sets  forth  clearly  a  fact 
which  has  already  come  to  pass,  but  which  has 
hitherto  been  ignored,  neglected  or  denied. 

What  was  that  fact?  Nothing  else  than  the 
existence  of  a  new  people,  separate,  distinct,  inde 
pendent,  in  the  thirteen  American  colonies.  At 
what  moment  in  the  troubled  seventeenth  century, 
age  of  European  revolt  and  conflict,  the  spirit  of 
liberty  brooding  upon  the  immense  wilderness  of 
the  New  World,  engendered  this  new  life,  we  can 
not  tell.  At  what  moment  in  the  philosophical 
eighteenth  century,  age  of  reason  and  reflection,  this 
new  life  began  to  be  self-conscious  and  to  feel  its 
way  toward  an  organic  unity  of  powers  and  efforts, 
we  cannot  precisely  determine.  But  the  thing  that 

18 


THE   SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 

is  clear  and  significant  is  that  independence  existed 
before  it  was  declared.  The  soul  of  the  American 
people  was  already  living  and  conscious  before  the 
history  of  the  United  States  began. 

I  call  this  fact  significant,  immensely  significant, 
because  it  marks  not  merely  a  verbal  distinction 
but  an  essential  difference,  a  difference  which  is 
vital  to  the  true  comprehension  of  the  American 
spirit  in  the  past  and  in  the  present. 

A  nation  brought  to  birth  by  an  act  of  violence, 
if  such  a  thing  be  possible,  —  or  let  us  rather  say, 
a  nation  achieving  liberty  by  a  sharp  and  sudden 
break  with  its  own  past  and  a  complete  overturn 
ing  of  its  own  traditions,  will  naturally  carry  with  it 
the  marks  of  such  an  origin.  It  will  be  inclined  to 
extreme  measures  and  methods.  It  will  be  par 
ticularly  liable  to  counter-revolutions.  It  will  often 
vibrate  between  radicalism  and  reactionism. 

But  a  nation  "conceived  in  liberty,"  to  use  Lin 
coln's  glorious  phrase,  and  pursuing  its  natural  aims, 
not  by  the  method  of  swift  and  forcible  change,  but 
by  the  method  of  normal  and  steady  development, 
will  be  likely  to  have  another  temperament  and  a 
different  history.  It  will  at  least  endeavour  to 
practice  moderation,  prudence,  patience.  It  will 
try  new  experiments  slowly.  It  will  advance,  not 
indeed  without  interruption,  but  with  a  large  and 
tranquil  confidence  that  its  security  and  progress 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

are  in  accordance  with  the  course  of  nature  and  the 
eternal  laws  of  right  reason. 

Now  this  is  true  in  the  main  of  the  United  States. 
And  the  reason  for  this  large  and  tranquil  confidence, 
at  which  Europeans  sometimes  smile  because  it 
looks  like  bravado,  and  for  this  essentially  con 
servative  temper,  at  which  Europeans  sometimes 
wonder  because  it  seems  unsuitable  to  a  democracy, 
—  the  reason,  I  think,  is  to  be  found  in  the  history 
of  the  soul  of  the  people. 

The  American  Revolution,  to  speak  accurately 
and  philosophically,  was  not  a  revolution  at  all.  It 
was  a  resistance. 

The  Americans  did  not  propose  to  conquer  new 
rights  and  privileges,  but  to  defend  old  ones. 

The  claim  of  Washington  and  Adams  and  Franklin 
and  Jefferson  and  Jay  and  Schuyler  and  Wither- 
spoon  was  that  the  kings  of  England  had  estab 
lished  the  colonies  in  certain  liberties  which  the 
Parliament  was  endeavouring  to  take  away.  These 
liberties,  the  Americans  asserted,  belonged  to  them 
not  only  by  natural  right,  but  also  by  precedent 
and  ancient  tradition.  The  colonists  claimed  that 
the  proposed  reorganization  of  the  colonies,  which 
was  undertaken  by  the  British  Parliament  in 
1763,  was  an  interruption  of  their  history  and  a 
change  in  the  established  conditions  of  their  life. 
They  were  unwilling  to  submit  to  it.  They  united 

20 


THE   SOUL   OF   A   PEOPLE 

and  armed  to  prevent  it.  They  took  the  position 
of  men  who  were  defending  their  inheritance  of 
self-government  against  a  war  of  subjugation 
disguised  as  a  new  scheme  of  imperial  legisla 
tion. 

Whether  they  were  right  or  wrong  in  making 
this  claim,  whether  the  arguments  by  which  they 
supported  it  were  sound  or  sophistical,  we  need  not 
now  consider.  For  the  present,  the  point  is  that 
the  claim  was  made,  and  that  the  making  of  it  is 
one  of  the  earliest  and  clearest  revelations  of  the 
Spirit  of  America. 

No  doubt  in  that  struggle  of  defence  which  we 
are  wont  to  call,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  the 
Revolution,  the  colonists  were  carried  by  the  irre 
sistible  force  of  events  far  beyond  this  position. 
The  privilege  of  self-government  which  they  claimed, 
the  principle  of  "no  taxation  without  representa 
tion,"  appeared  to  them,  at  last,  defensible  and  prac 
ticable  only  on  the  condition  of  absolute  separation 
from  Great  Britain.  This  separation  implied  sov 
ereignty.  This  sovereignty  demanded  union.  This 
union,  by  the  logic  of  events,  took  the  form  of  a 
republic.  This  republic  continues  to  exist  and  to 
develop  along  the  normal  lines  of  its  own  nature, 
because  it  is  still  animated  and  controlled  by  the 
same  Spirit  of  America  which  brought  it  into  being 
to  embody  the  soul  of  the  people. 

21 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

I  am  quite  sure  that  there  are  few,  even  among 
Americans,  who  appreciate  the  literal  truth  and  the 
full  meaning  of  this  last  statement.  It  is  common  to 
assume  that  the  Spirit  of  1776  is  an  affair  of  the 
past;  that  the  native  American  stock  is  swallowed 
up  and  lost  in  our  mixed  population;  and  that  the 
new  United  States,  beginning,  let  us  say,  at  the  close 
of  the  Civil  War,  is  now  controlled  and  guided  by 
forces  which  have  come  to  it  from  without.  This  is 
not  true  even  physically,  much  less  is  it  true  intel 
lectually  and  morally. 

The  blended  strains  of  blood  which  made  the 
American  people  in  the  beginning  are  still  the  domi 
nant  factors  in  the  American  people  of  to-day. 
Men  of  distinction  in  science,  art,  and  statesman 
ship  have  come  from  abroad  to  cast  their  fortunes 
in  with  the  republic,  —  men  like  Gallatin  and  Agassiz 
and  Guyot  and  Lieber  and  McCosh  and  Carl  Schurz, 
—  and  their  presence  has  been  welcomed,  their 
service  received  with  honour.  Of  the  total  popu 
lation  of  the  United  States  in  1900  more  than  34 
per  cent  were  of  foreign  birth  or  parentage.  But 
the  native  stock  has  led  and  still  leads  America. 

There  is  a  popular  cyclopaedia  of  names,  called 
Who's  Who  in  America,  which  contains  brief  biog 
raphies  of  some  16,395  living  persons,  who  are  sup 
posed  to  be  more  or  less  distinguished,  in  one  way 
or  another,  in  the  various  regions  in  which  they 

22 


THE   SOUL   OF  A   PEOPLE 

live.  It  includes  the  representatives  of  foreign 
governments  in  the  United  States,  and  some  foreign 
authors  and  business  men.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
imagine  that  all  who  are  admitted  to  this  quasi- 
golden  book  of  "Who's-who-dom"  are  really  great 
or  widely  famous.  There  are  perhaps  many  of 
whom  we  might  inquire,  Which  is  who,  and  why  is 
he  somewhat?  But,  after  all,  the  book  includes 
most  of  the  successful  lawyers,  doctors,  merchants, 
bankers,  preachers,  politicians,  authors,  artists,  and 
teachers,  —  the  people  who  are  most  influential  in 
their  local  communities  and  best  known  to  their 
fellow-citizens.  The  noteworthy  fact  is  that  86.07 
per  cent  are  native  Americans.  I  think  that  a  care 
ful  examination  of  the  record  would  show  that  a 
very  large  majority  have  at  least  three  generations 
of  American  ancestry  on  one  side  or  the  other  of 
the  family. 

Of  the  men  elected  to  the  presidency  of  the 
United  States  there  has  been  only  one  whose  ances 
tors  did  not  belong  to  America  before  the  Revolu 
tion,  —  James  Buchanan,  whose  father  was  a  Scotch- 
Irish  preacher  who  came  to  the  New  World  in  1783. 
All  but  four  of  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States 
could  trace  their  line  back  to  Americans  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

But  it  is  not  upon  these  striking  facts  of  physical 
heredity  that  I  would  rest  my  idea  of  an  American 

23 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

people,  distinct  and  continuous,  beginning  a  con 
scious  life  at  some  time  antecedent  to  1764  and 
still  guiding  the  development  of  the  United  States. 
I  would  lay  far  more  stress  upon  intellectual  and 
spiritual  heredity,  that  strange  process  of  moral 
generation  by  which  the  qualities  of  the  Spirit  of 
America  have  been  communicated  to  millions  of 
immigrants  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Since  1820  about  twenty-six  million  persons  have 
come  to  the  United  States  from  foreign  lands.  At 
the  present  moment,  in  a  population  which  is  esti 
mated  at  about  ninety  millions,  there  are  probably 
between  thirteen  and  fifteen  millions  who  are  for 
eign-born.  It  is  an  immense  quantity  for  any  nation 
to  digest  and  assimilate,  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  there  are  occasional  signs  of  local  dyspepsia  in 
the  large  cities.  But  none  the  less  it  may  be  con 
fidently  affirmed  that  the  foreign  immigration  of  the 
past  has  been  thoroughly  transformed  into  Ameri 
can  material,  and  that  the  immigration  of  the  pres 
ent  is  passing  through  the  same  process  without  any 
alarming  interruption. 

I  can  take  you  into  quarters  of  New  York  where 
you  might  think  yourself  in  a  Russian  Ghetto,  or 
into  regions  of  Pennsylvania  which  would  seem  to 
you  like  Hungarian  mining  towns.  But  if  you  will 
come  with  me  into  the  public  schools,  where  the  chil 
dren  of  these  people  of  the  Old  World  are  gathered 

24 


THE   SOUL  OF  A   PEOPLE 

for  education,  you  will  find  yourself  in  the  midst 
of  fairly  intelligent  and  genuinely  patriotic  young 
Americans.  They  will  salute  the  flag  for  you  with 
enthusiasm.  They  will  sing  "  Columbia"  and  "The 
Star  Spangled  Banner"  with  more  vigour  than  har 
mony.  They  will  declaim  Webster's  apostrophe  to 
the  Union,  or  cry  with  Patrick  Henry,  "Give  me 
liberty  or  give  me  death." 

What  is  more,  they  will  really  feel,  in  some  dim 
but  none  the  less  vital  way,  the  ideals  for  which 
these  symbols  stand.  Give  them  time,  and  their 
inward  allegiance  will  become  clearer,  they  will 
begin  to  perceive  how  and  why  they  are  Ameri 
cans.  They  will  be  among  those  wise  children 
who  know  their  own  spiritual  fathers. 

Last  June  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  deliver  the  com 
mencement  address  at  the  College  of  the  City  of 
New  York,  a  free  institution  which  is  the  crown  of 
the  public  school  system  of  the  city.  Only  a  very 
small  proportion  of  the  scholars  had  names  that  you 
could  call  American,  or  even  Anglo-Saxon.  They 
were  French  and  German,  Polish  and  Italian,  Rus 
sian  and  Hebrew.  Yet  as  I  spoke  on  the  subject 
of  citizenship,  suggested  by  the  recent  death  of  that 
great  American,  ex-President  Grover  Cleveland,  the 
response  was  intelligent,  immediate,  unanimous,  and 
eager.  There  was  not  one  of  that  crowd  of  young 
men  who  would  have  denied  or  surrendered  his 

25 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

right  to  trace  his  patriotic  ancestry,  his  inherited 
share  in  the  Spirit  of  America,  back  to  Lincoln  and 
Webster,  Madison  and  Jefferson,  Franklin  and 
Washington. 

Here,  then,  is  the  proposition  to  which  I  dedicate 
these  conferences. 

There  is  now,  and  there  has  been  since  before 
the  Revolution,  a  Spirit  of  America,  the  soul  of  a 
people,  and  it  is  this  which  has  made  the  United 
States  and  which  still  animates  and  controls  them. 

I  shall  try  to  distinguish  and  describe  a  few,  four 
or  five  of  the  essential  features,  qualities,  ideals,  — 
call  them  what  you  will,  —  the  main  elements  of 
that  spirit  as  I  understand  it.  I  shall  also  speak 
of  two  or  three  other  traits,  matters  of  temperament, 
perhaps,  more  than  of  character,  which  seem  to  me 
distinctly  American.  Then  because  I  am  neither  a 
politician  nor  a  jurist,  I  shall  pass  from  the  im 
portant  field  of  civil  government  and  national  in 
stitutions,  to  consider  some  of  the  ways  in  which 
this  soul  of  the  American  people  has  expressed 
itself  in  education  and  in  social  effort  and  in  litera 
ture. 

In  following  this  course  I  venture  to  hope  that  it 
may  be  possible  to  correct,  or  at  least  to  modify, 
some  of  the  inaccuracies  and  inconsistencies  in  the 
popular  view  of  America  which  prevails  in  some 
quarters  of  Europe.  Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  sug- 

26 


THE   SOUL   OF   A   PEOPLE 

gest,  even  to  Americans,  some  of  the  real  sources  of 
our  national  unity  and  strength. 

"  Un  Americain"  says  Andre  Tardieu,  in  his 
recent  book,  "est  toujours  plus  proche  qu'on  ne 
croit  d'un  contradicteur  Americain." 

Why? 

That  is  what  I  hope  to  show  in  these  lectures.  I 
do  not  propose  to  argue  for  any  creed,  nor  to  win 
converts  for  any  political  theory.  In  these  conferences 
I  am  not  a  propagandist,  nor  a  preacher,  nor  an 
advocate.  Not  even  a  professor,  strictly  speaking. 
Just  a  man  from  America  who  is  trying  to  make  you 
feel  the  real  spirit  of  his  country,  first  in  her  life,  then 
in  her  literature.  I  should  be  glad  if  in  the  end  you 
might  be  able  to  modify  the  ancient  proverb  a  little 
and  say,  Tout  comprendre,  c'est  un  pen  aimer. 


27 


II 

SELF-RELIANCE  AND   THE  RE 
PUBLIC 


II 

SELF-RELIANCE  AND  THE  REPUBLIC 

THE  other  day  I  came  upon  a  new  book  with  a 
title  which  seemed  to  take  a  good  ideal  for  granted : 
The  New  American  Type. 

The  author  began  with  a  description  of  a  recent 
exhibition  of  portraits  in  New  York,  including  pic 
tures  of  the  eighteenth,  nineteenth,  and  twentieth 
centuries.  He  was  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
"an  astonishing  change  had  taken  place  in  men 
and  women  between  the  time  of  President  Wash 
ington  and  President  McKinley;  bodies,  faces, 
thoughts,  had  all  been  transformed.  One  short 
stairway  from  the  portraits  of  Reynolds  to  those  of 
Sargent  ushered  in  changes  as  if  it  had  stretched 
from  the  first  Pharaoh  to  the  last  Ptolemy."  From 
this  interesting  text  the  author  went  on  into  an 
acute  and  sparkling  discussion  of  the  different  pic 
tures  and  the  personalities  whom  they  presented, 
and  so  into  an  attempt  to  define  the  new  type  of 
American  character  which  he  inferred  from  the 
modern  portraits. 

Now  it  had  been  my  good  fortune,  only  a  little 
31 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

while  before,  to  see  another  exhibition  of  pictures 
which  made  upon  my  mind  a  directly  contrary  im 
pression.  This  was  not  a  collection  of  paintings, 
but  a  show  of  living  pictures :  a  Twelfth  Night  cele 
bration,  in  costume,  at  the  Century  Club  in  New 
York.  Four  or  five  hundred  of  the  best-known  and 
most  influential  men  in  the  metropolis  of  America 
had  arrayed  themselves  in  the  habiliments  of  vari 
ous  lands  and  ages  for  an  evening  of  fun  and  frolic. 
There  were  travellers  and  explorers  who  had  brought 
home  the  robes  of  the  Orient.  There  were  men  of 
exuberant  fancy  who  had  made  themselves  up  as 
Roman  senators  or  Spanish  toreadors  or  Provencal 
troubadours.  But  most  of  the  costumes  were  Eng 
lish  or  Dutch  or  French  of  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  The  astonishing  thing  was 
that  the  men  who  wore  them  might  easily  have  been 
taken  for  their  own  grandfathers  or  great-grand 
fathers. 

There  was  a  Puritan  who  might  have  fled  from 
the  oppressions  of  Archbishop  Laud,  a  Cavalier  who 
might  have  sought  a  refuge  from  the  severities  of 
Cromwell's  Parliament,  a  Huguenot  who  might 
have  escaped  from  the  pressing  attentions  of  Louis 
XIV  in  the  Dragonnades,  a  Dutch  burgher  who 
might  have  sailed  from  Amsterdam  in  the  Goede 
Vrouw.  There  were  soldiers  of  the  Colonial  army 
and  members  of  the  Continental  Congress  who 

32 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

might  have  been  painted  by  Copley  or  Stuart  or 
Trumbull  or  Peale. 

The  types  of  the  faces  were  not  essentially  dif 
ferent  There  was  the  same  strength  of  bony  struc 
ture,  the  same  firmness  of  outline,  the  same  expres 
sion  of  self-reliance,  varying  from  the  tranquillity  of 
the  quiet  temperament  to  the  turbulence  of  the 
stormy  temperament.  They  looked  like  men  who 
were  able  to  take  care  of  themselves,  who  knew 
what  they  wanted,  and  who  would  be  likely  to  get 
it.  They  had  the  veritable  air  and  expression  of 
their  ancestors  of  one  or  two  hundred  years  ago. 
And  yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  were  intensely 
modern  Americans,  typical  New  Yorkers  of  the 
twentieth  century. 

Reflecting  upon  this  interesting  and  rather  pleas 
ant  experience,  I  was  convinced  that  the  author  of 
The  New  American  Type  had  allowed  his  imagi 
nation  to  run  away  with  his  judgment.  No  such 
general  and  fundamental  change  as  he  describes  has 
really  taken  place.  There  have  been  modifications 
and  developments  and  degenerations,  of  course, 
under  the  new  conditions  and  influences  of  modern 
life.  There  have  been  also  great  changes  of  fashion 
and  dress,  —  the  wearing  of  mustaches  and  beards, 
—  the  discarding  of  wigs  and  ruffles,  —  the  sacrifice 
of  a  somewhat  fantastic  elegance  to  a  rather  mo 
notonous  comfort  in  the  ordinary  costume  of  men. 

D  33 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

These  things  have  confused  and  misled  my  ingenious 
author. 

He  has  been  bewildered  also  by  the  alteration  in 
the  methods  of  portraiture.  He  has  mistaken  a 
change  in  the  art  of  the  painters  for  a  change  in 
the  character  of  their  subjects.  It  is  a  well-known 
fact  that  something  comes  into  a  portrait  from  the 
place  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  made.  I  have 
a  collection  of  pictures  of  Charles  Dickens,  and  it 
is  interesting  to  observe  how  the  Scotch  ones  make 
him  look  a  little  like  a  Scotchman,  and  the  London 
ones  make  him  look  intensely  English,  and  the 
American  ones  give  him  a  touch  of  Broadway  in 
1845,  and  the  photographs  made  in  Paris  have  an 
unmistakable  suggestion  of  the  Boulevards.  There 
is  a  great  difference  between  the  spirit  and  method 
of  Reynolds,  Hoppner,  Latour,  Vanloo,  and  those 
of  Sargent,  Holl,  Duran,  Bonnat,  Alexander,  and 
Zorn.  It  is  this  difference  that  helps  to  conceal  the 
essential  likeness  of  their  sitters. 

I  was  intimately  acquainted  with  Benjamin 
Franklin's  great-grandson,  a  surgeon  in  the  Ameri 
can  navy.  Put  a  fur  cap  and  knee  breeches  on 
him,  and  he  might  easily  have  sat  for  his  great 
grandfather's  portrait.  In  character  there  was  a 
still  closer  resemblance.  You  can  see  the  same 
faces  at  any  banquet  in  New  York  to-day  that 
Rembrandt  has  depicted  in  his  "  Night- Watch," 

34 


inhabit  America  J 
tits  brought  from  ? 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

or   Franz   Hals    in    his    "  Banquet   of    the    Civic 
Guard." 

But  there  is  something  which  interests  me  even 
more  than  this  persistence  of  visible  ancestral 
features  in  the  Americans  of  to-day.  It  is  the  con 
tinuance  from  generation  to  generation  of  the  main 
lines,  the  essential  elements,  of  that  American  char 
acter  which  came  into  being  on  the  Western  continent. 

It  is  commonly  assumed  that  this  character  is  v 
composite,   that  the  people  who 
are  a  mosaic,  made  up  of  fragments 
various  lands  and  put  together  rather  at  haphazard     ) 
and  in  a  curious  pattern.     This  assumption  misses 
the  inward  verity  by  dwelling  too  much  upon  the 
outward  fact. 

Undoubtedly  there  were  large  and  striking  differ 
ences  between  the  grave  and  strict  Puritans  who 
peopled  the  shores  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  the  pleasure- 
loving  Cavaliers  who  made  their  tobacco  plantations 
in  Virginia,  the  liberal  and  comfortable  Hollanders 
who  took  possession  of  the  lands  along  the  Hudson, 
the  skilful  and  industrious  Frenchmen  who  came 
from  old  Rochelle  to  New  Rochelle,  the  peaceful 
and  prudent  Quakers  who  followed  William  Penn, 
the  stolid  Germans  of  the  Rhine  who  made  their 
farms  along  the  Susquehanna,  the  vigorous  and 
aggressive  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians  who  became 
the  pioneers  of  western  Pennsylvania  and  North 

35 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Carolina,  the  tolerant  Catholics  who  fled  from 
English  persecution  to  Lord  Baltimore's  Maryland. 
But  these  outward  differences  of  speech,  of  dress, 
of  habits,  of  tradition,  were,  after  all,  of  less  practical 
consequence  than  the  inward  resemblances  and 
sympathies  of  spirit  which  brought  these  men  of 
different  stocks  together  as  one  people. 

They  were  not  a  composite  people,  but  a  blended 
people.  They  became  in  large  measure  conscious 
of  the  same  aims,  loyal  to  the  same  ideals,  and 
capable  of  fighting  and  working  together  as  Ameri 
cans  to  achieve  their  destiny. 

I  suppose  that  the  natural  process  of  intermar 
riage  played  an  important  part  in  this  blending  of 
races.  This  is  an  affair  to  which  the  conditions  of 
life  in  a  new  country,  on  the  frontiers  of  civilization, 
are  peculiarly  favourable.  Love  flourishes  when 
there  are  no  locksmiths.  In  a  community  of  exiles 
the  inclinations  of  the  young  men  towards  the  young 
women  easily  overstep  the  barriers  of  language  and 
descent.  Quite  naturally  the  English  and  Scotch 
were  united  with  the  Dutch  and  French  in  the  holy 
state  of  matrimony,  and  the  mothers  had  as  much 
to  do  as  the  fathers  with  the  character-building  of 
the  children. 

But  apart  from  this  natural  process  of  combina 
tion  there  were  other  influences  at  work  bringing 
the  colonists  into  unity.  There  was  the  pressure  of 

36 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

a  common  necessity  —  the  necessity  of  taking  care 
of  themselves,  of  making  their  own  living  in  a  hard, 
new  world.  There  was  the  pressure  of  a  common 
danger  —  the  danger  from  the  fierce  and  treacherous 
savages  who  surrounded  them  and  continually 
threatened  them  with  pillage  and  slaughter.  There 
was  the  pressure  of  a  common  discipline  —  the  dis 
cipline  of  building  up  an  organized  industry,  a 
civilized  community  in  the  wilderness. 

Yet  I  doubt  whether  even  these  potent  forces  of 
compression,  of  fusion,  of  metamorphosis,  would 
have  made  one  people  of  the  colonists  quite  so 
quickly,  quite  so  thoroughly,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
certain  affinities  of  spirit,  certain  ideals  and  pur 
poses  which  influenced  them  all,  and  which  made 
the  blending  easier  and  more  complete. 

Most  of  the  colonists  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
you  will  observe,  were  people  who  in  one  way  or 
another  had  suffered  for  their  religious  convictions, 
whether  they  were  Puritans  or  Catholics,  Episco 
palians  or  Presbyterians,  Quakers  or  Anabaptists. 

The  almost  invariable  effect  of  suffering  for  religion 
is  to  deepen  its  power  and  to  intensify  the  desire  for 
liberty  to  practise  it. 

It  is  true  that  other  motives,  the  love  of  adven 
ture,  the  desire  to  attain  prosperity  in  the  affairs  of 
this  world,  and  in  some  cases  the  wish  to  escape 
from  the  consequences  of  misconduct  or  misfortune 

37 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

in  the  old  country,  played  a  part  in  the  settlement 
of  America.  Nothing  could  be  more  absurd  than 
the  complacent  assumption  that  all  the  ancestors 
from  whom  the  " Colonial  Dames"  or  the  "Sons  of 
the  Revolution"  delight  to  trace  their  descent  were 
persons  of  distinguished  character  and  fervent  piety. 

But  the  most  characteristic  element  of  the  early 
emigration  was  religious,  and  that  not  by  convention 
and  conformity,  but  by  conscience  and  conviction. 
There  was  less  difference  among  the  various  colonies 
in  this  respect  than  is  generally  imagined.  The 
New  Englanders,  who  have  written  most  of  the 
American  histories,  have  been  in  the  way  of  claim 
ing  the  lion's  share  of  the  religious  influence  for  the 
Puritans.  But  while  Massachusetts  was  a  religious 
colony  with  commercial  tendencies,  New  Amsterdam 
was  a  commercial  colony  with  religious  principles. 

The  Virginia  parson  prayed  by  the  book,  and  the 
Pennsylvania  Quaker  made  silence  the  most  im 
portant  part  of  his  ritual,  but  alike  on  the  banks 
of  the  James  and  on  the  shores  of  the  Delaware  the 
ultimate  significance  and  value  of  life  were  inter 
preted  in  terms  of  religion. 

Now  one  immediate  effect  of  such  a  ground-tone 
of  existence  is  to  increase  susceptibility  and  devo 
tion  to  ideals.  The  habit  of  referring  constantly  to 
religious  sanctions  is  one  that  carries  with  it  a  ten 
dency  to  intensify  the  whole  motive  power  of  life  in 

38 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

relation  to  its  inward  conceptions  of  what  is  right 
and  desirable.  Men  growing  up  in  such  an  atmos 
phere  may  easily  become  fanatical,  but  they  are  not 
likely  to  be  feeble. 

Moreover,  the  American  colonists,  by  the  very 
conditions  of  natural  selection  which  brought  them 
together,  must  have  included  more  than  the  usual 
proportion  of  strong  wills,  resolute  and  independent 
characters,  people  who  knew  what  they  wanted  to 
do  and  were  willing  to  accept  needful  risks  and 
hardships  in  order  to  do  it.  The  same  thing,  at 
least  to  some  extent,  holds  good  of  the  later  immi 
gration  into  the  United  States. 

Most  of  the  immigrants  must  have  been  rich  in 
personal  energy,  clear  in  their  conviction  of  what 
was  best  for  them  to  do.  Otherwise  they  would 
have  lacked  the  force  to  break  old  ties,  to  brave 
the  sea,  to  face  the  loneliness  and  uncertainty 
of  life  in  a  strange  land.  Discontent  with  their 
former  condition  acted  upon  them  not  as  a  depress 
ant  but  as  a  tonic.  The  hope  of  something  unseen, 
untried,  was  a  stimulus  to  which  their  wills  reacted. 
Whatever  misgivings  or  reluctances  they  may  have 
had,  upon  the  whole  they  were  more  attracted  than 
repelled  by  the  prospect  of  shaping  a  new  life  for 
themselves,  according  to  their  own  desire,  in  a  land 
of  liberty,  opportunity,  and  difficulty. 

We  come  thus  to  the  first  and  most  potent  factor 
39 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

in  the  soul  of  the  American  people,  the  spirit  of  self- 
reliance.  This  was  the  dominant  and  formative 
factor  of  their  early  history.  It  was  the  inward 
power  which  animated  and  sustained  them  in  their 
first  struggles  and  efforts.  It  was  deepened  by 
religious  conviction  and  intensified  by  practical  ex 
perience.  It  took  shape  in  political  institutions, 
declarations,  constitutions.  It  rejected  foreign  guid 
ance  and  control,  and  fought  against  all  external 
domination.  It  assumed  the  right  of  self-determi 
nation,  and  took  for  granted  the  power  of  self- 
development.  In  the  ignorant  and  noisy  it  was 
aggressive,  independent,  cocksure,  and  boastful. 
In  the  thoughtful  and  prudent  it  was  grave,  firm, 
resolute,  and  inflexible.  It  has  persisted  through  all 
the  changes  and  growth  of  two  centuries,  and  it  re 
mains  to-day  the  most  vital  and  irreducible  quality 
in  the  soul  of  America,  —  the  spirit  of  self-reliance. 
You  may  hear  it  in  its  popular  and  somewhat 
vulgar  form  —  not  without  a  characteristic  touch 
of  humour  —  in  the  Yankee's  answer  to  the  inti 
mation  of  an  Englishman  that  if  the  United  States 
did  not  behave  themselves  well,  Great  Britain  would 
come  over  and  whip  them.  "What!"  said  the 
Yankee,  "ag'in?"  You  may  hear  it  in  deeper, 
saner,  wiser  tones,  in  Lincoln's  noble  asseveration 
on  the  battle-field  of  Gettysburg,  that  "government 
of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for  the  people  shall 

40 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE  REPUBLIC 

not  perish  from  the  earth."  But  however  or  when 
ever  you  hear  it,  the  thing  which  it  utters  is  the 
same,  —  the  inward  conviction  of  a  people  that 
they  have  the  right  and  the  ability,  and  consequently 
the  duty,  to  regulate  their  own  life,  to  direct  their 
own  property,  and  to  pursue  their  own  happiness 
according  to  the  light  which  they  possess. 

It  is  obvious  that  one  may  give  different  names 
to  this  spirit,  according  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  it  is  manifested  and  observed.  It  may  be 
called  the  spirit  of  independence  when  it  is  shown 
in  opposition  to  forces  of  external  control.  Pro 
fessor  Barrett  Wendell,  speaking  from  this  chair 
four  years  ago,  said  that  the  first  ideal  to  take  form 
in  the  American  consciousness  was  "the  ideal  of 
Liberty."  But  his  well-balanced  mind  compelled 
him  immediately  to  limit  and  define  this  ideal  as  a 
desire  for  "the  political  freedom  of  America  from 
all  control,  from  all  coercion,  from  all  interference 
by  any  power  foreign  to  our  own  American  selves." 
And  what  is  this  but  self-reliance? 

Professor  Miinsterberg,  in  his  admirable  book,  The 
Americans,  calls  it  "the  spirit  of  self-direction."  He 
traces  its  influence  in  the  development  of  American 
institutions  and  the  structure  of  American  life.  He 
says:  "Whoever  wishes  to  understand  the  secret  of 
that  baffling  turmoil,  the  inner  mechanism  and  motive 
behind  all  the  politically  effective  forces,  must  set 

41 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

out  from  only  one  point.  He  must  appreciate  the 
yearning  of  the  American  heart  after  self-direction. 
Everything  else  is  to  be  understood  from  this." 

But  this  yearning  after  sell-direction,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  not  peculiar  to  Americans.  All  men  have 
more  or  less  of  it  by  nature.  All  men  yearn  to  be 
their  own  masters,  to  shape  their  own  life,  to  direct 
their  own  course.  The  difference  among  men  lies 
in  the  clearness  and  the  vigour  with  which  they  con 
ceive  their  own  right  and  power  and  duty  so  to  do. 

Back  of  the  temper  of  independence,  back  of  the 
passion  for  liberty,  back  of  the  yearning  after  self- 
direction,  stands  the  spirit  of  self-reliance,  from 
which  alone  they  derive  force  and  permanence.  It 
was  this  spirit  that  made  America,  and  it  is  this 
spirit  that  preserves  the  republic.  Emerson  has 
expressed  it  in  a  sentence:  "We  will  walk  on  our 
own  feet;  we  will  work  with  our  own  hands;  we 
will  speak  our  own  minds." 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  the  largest  influence 
in  the  development  of  this  spirit  came  from  the 
Puritans  and  Pilgrims  of  the  New  England  colonies, 
bred  under  the  bracing  and  strengthening  power  of 
that  creed  which  bears  the  name  of  a  great  French 
man,  John  Calvin,  and  trained  in  that  tremendous 
sense  of  personal  responsibility  which  so  often  carries 
with  it  an  intense  feeling  of  personal  value  and 
force.  Yet,  after  all,  if  we  look  at  the  matter  closely, 

42 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

we  shall  see  that  there  was  no  very  great  difference 
among  the  colonists  of  various  stocks  and  regions 
in  regard  to  their  confidence  in  themselves  and  their 
feeling  that  they  both  could  and  should  direct  their 
own  affairs. 

The  Virginians,  languishing  and  fretting  under 
the  first  arbitrary  rule  of  the  London  corporation 
which  controlled  them  with  military  severity,  ob 
tained  a  "  Great  Charter  of  Privileges,  Orders,  and 
Laws"  in  1618.  This  gave  to  the  little  body  of 
settlers,  about  a  thousand  in  number,  the  right  of 
electing  their  own  legislative  assembly,  and  thus  laid 
the  foundation  of  representative  government  in  the 
New  World.  A  little  later,  in  1623,  fearing  that  the 
former  despotism  might  be  renewed,  the  Virginia 
Assembly  sent  a  message  to  the  king,  saying,  "  Rather 
than  be  reduced  to  live  under  the  like  government, 
we  desire  his  Majesty  that  commissioners  be  sent 
over  to  hang  us." 

In  1624  the  Virginia  Company  was  dissolved, 
and  the  colony  passed  under  a  royal  charter,  but 
they  still  preserved  and  cherished  the  rights  of 
self-rule  in  all  local  affairs,  and  developed  an  ex 
traordinary  temper  of  jealousy  and  resistance  tow 
ards  the  real  or  imagined  encroachments  of  the 
governors  who  were  sent  out  by  the  king.  In  1676 
the  Virginians  practically  rebelled  against  the  au 
thority  of  Great  Britain  because  they  conceived  that 

43 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

they  were  being  reduced  to  a  condition  of  depend 
ence  and  servitude.  They  felt  confident  that  they 
were  able  to  make  their  own  laws  and  to  choose 
their  own  leaders.  They  were  distinctly  not  con 
scious  of  any  inferiority  to  their  brethren  in  Eng 
land,  and  with  their  somewhat  aristocratic  ten 
dencies  they  developed  a  set  of  men  like  Lee  and 
Henry  and  Washington  and  Bland  and  Jefferson 
and  Harrison,  who  had  more  real  power  than  any  of 
the  royal  governors. 

In  New  Amsterdam,  where  the  most  liberal 
policy  in  regard  to  the  reception  of  immigrants  pre 
vailed,  but  where  for  a  long  time  there  was  little 
or  no  semblance  of  popular  government,  the  in 
habitants  rebelled  in  1649  against  the  tyranny  of 
the  agents  of  the  Dutch  West  India  Company  which 
ruled  them  from  across  the  sea,  —  ruled  them  fairly 
well,  upon  the  whole,  but  still  denied  free  play  to 
their  spirit  of  self-reliance.  The  conflicts  between 
the  bibulous  and  dubious  Director  van  Twiller  and 
his  neighbours,  between  the  fiery  and  arbitrary 
William  Kieft  and  his  Eight  Men,  between  the 
valiant,  obstinate,  hot-tempered,  and  dictatorial  Peter 
Stuyvesant  and  his  Nine  Men,  have  been  humor 
ously  narrated  by  Washington  Irving  in  his  Knicker 
bocker.  But  underneath  the  burlesque  chronicle  of 
bickerings  and  wranglings,  complaints  and  protests, 
it  is  easy  to  see  the  stirrings  of  the  sturdy  spirit 

44 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

which  confides  in  self  and  desires  to  have  control 
of  its  own  affairs. 

In  1649  the  Vertoogh  or  Remonstrance  of  the 
Seven  Men  representing  the  burghers  of  Manhattan, 
Brewckelen,  Amersfoort,  and  Pavonia  was  sent  to 
the  States  General  of  the  Netherlands.  It  demanded 
first  that  their  High  Mightinesses  should  turn  out 
the  West  India  Company  and  take  direct  control 
of  New  Netherland ;  second,  that  a  proper  mu 
nicipal  government  should  be  granted  to  New  Amster 
dam  ;  and  third,  that  the  boundaries  of  the  province 
should  be  settled  by  treaty  with  friendly  powers. 
This  document  also  called  attention,  by  way  of 
example,  to  the  freedom  of  their  neighbours  in  New 
England,  "where  neither  patrouns,  nor  lords,  nor 
princes  are  known,  but  only  the  people."  The 
West  India  Company  was  powerful  enough  to  resist 
these  demands  for  a  time,  but  in  1653  New  Amster 
dam  was  incorporated  as  a  city. 

Ten  years  later  it  passed  under  English  sovereignty, 
and  the  history  of  New  York  began.  One  of  its 
first  events  was  the  protest  of  certain  towns  on  Long 
Island  against  a  tax  which  was  laid  upon  them  in 
order  to  pay  for  the  repair  of  the  fort  in  New  York. 
They  appealed  to  the  principle  of  "no  taxation 
without  representation,"  which  they  claimed  had 
been  declared  alike  by  England  and  by  the  Dutch 
republic.  For  nearly  twenty  years,  however,  this 

45 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

appeal  and  others  like  it  were  disregarded,  until  at 
last  the  spirit  of  self-reliance  became  irresistible. 
A  petition  was  sent  to  the  Duke  of  York  declaring 
that  the  lack  of  a  representative  assembly  was  "an 
intolerable  grievance."  The  Duke,  it  is  said,  was 
out  of  patience  with  his  uneasy  province,  which 
brought  him  in  no  revenue  except  complaints  and 
protests.  "I  have  a  mind  to  sell  it,"  said  he,  "to 
any  one  who  will  give  me  a  fair  price."  "What," 
cried  his  friend  William  Penn,  "sell  New  York! 
Don't  think  of  such  a  thing.  Just  give  it  self-gov 
ernment,  and  there  will  be  no  more  trouble."  The 
Duke  listened  to  the  Quaker,  and  in  1683  the  first 
Assembly  of  New  York  was  elected. 

The  charters  which  were  granted  by  the  Stuart 
kings  to  the  American  colonies  were  for  the  most 
part  of  an  amazingly  liberal  character.  No  doubt 
the  royal  willingness  to  see  restless  and  intractable 
subjects  leave  England  had  something  to  do  with 
this  liberality.  But  the  immediate  effect  of  it  was 
to  encourage  the  spirit  of  self-reliance.  In  some  of 
the  colonies,  as  in  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island,  the 
people  elected  their  own  governors  as  well  as  made 
their  own  laws.  When  Governor  Fletcher  of  New 
York  found  the  people  of  Connecticut  unwilling  to 
comply  with  his  demands  in  1693,  he  wrote  back 
to  England  angrily:  "The  laws  of  England  have  no 
effect  in  this  colony.  They  set  up  for  a  free  state." 

46 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE  REPUBLIC 

Even  in  those  colonies  where  the  governors  and 
the  judges  were  appointed  by  the  crown,  the  people 
were  quick  to  suspect  and  bitter  to  resent  any  in 
vasion  of  their  liberties  or  contradiction  of  their 
will  as  expressed  through  the  popular  assemblies; 
and  these  assemblies  prudently  retained,  as  a  check 
upon  executive  authority,  the  right  of  voting,  and 
paying,  or  not  paying,  the  salaries  of  the  governor 
and  other  officers. 

The  policy  of  Great  Britain  in  regard  to  the 
American  dependencies,  while  it  vacillated  some 
what,  was,  in  the  main,  to  leave  them  quite  inde 
pendent.  Various  motives  may  have  played  a  part 
at  different  times  in  this  policy.  Indifference  and  a 
feeling  of  contempt  may  have  had  something  to  do 
with  it.  English  liberalism  and  republican  sym 
pathy  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  it.  A 
shrewd  willingness  to  let  them  prosper  by  their  own 
efforts,  in  their  own  way,  in  order  that  they  might 
make  a  better  market  for  English  manufactures, 
may  have  had  something  to  do  with  it.  Thus  Lord 
Morley  tells  us:  "Walpole  was  content  with  seeing 
that  no  trouble  came  from  America.  He  left  it  to 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  and  the  Duke  left  it  so 
much  to  itself  that  he  had  a  closet  full  of  despatches 
from  American  governors,  which  had  lain  unopened 
for  years." 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  causes  of  this 
47 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

policy,  its  effect  was  to  intensify  and  spread  the 
spirit  of  self-reliance  among  the  people  of  America. 
A  group  of  communities  grew  up  along  the  west 
ern  shore  of  the  Atlantic  which  formed  the  habit  of 
defending  themselves,  of  developing  their  own  re 
sources,  of  regulating  their  own  affairs.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  they  were  colonies  only  in  the 
Greek  sense:  communities  which  went  forth  from 
the  mother-country  like  children  from  a  home,  to 
establish  a  self-sustaining  and  equal  life.  They 
were  not  colonies  in  the  Roman  sense,  suburbs  of 
the  empire,  garrisoned  and  ruled  from  the  sole 
centre  of  authority. 

They  felt,  all  of  them,  that  they  understood  their 
own  needs,  their  own  opportunities,  their  own 
duties,  their  own  dangers  and  hopes,  better  than 
any  one  else  could  understand  them.  "Those  who 
feel,"  said  Franklin,  when  he  appeared  before  the 
committee  of  Parliament  in  London,  "can  best 
judge."  They  issued  money,  they  made  laws  and 
constitutions,  they  raised  troops,  they  built  roads, 
they  established  schools  and  colleges,  they  levied 
taxes,  they  developed  commerce,  —  and  this  last 
they  did  to  a  considerable  extent  in  violation  or 
evasion  of  the  English  laws  of  navigation. 

They  acknowledged,  indeed  they  fervently  pro 
tested,  for  a  long  time,  their  allegiance  to  Great 
Britain  and  their  loyalty  to  the  crown;  but  they 


SELF-RELIANCE  AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

conceived  their  allegiance  as  one  of  equality,  and 
their  loyalty  as  a  voluntary  sentiment  largely  in 
fluenced  by  gratitude  for  the  protection  which  the 
king  gave  them  in  the  rights  of  internal  self-govern 
ment. 

This  self-reliant  spirit  extended  from  the  colonies 
into  the  townships  and  counties  of  which  they  were 
composed.  Each  little  settlement,  each  flourishing 
village  and  small  city,  had  its  own  local  interests, 
and  felt  the  wish  and  the  ability  to  manage  them. 
And  in  these  communities  every  man  was  apt  to  be 
conscious  of  his  own  importance,  his  own  value,  his 
own  ability  and  right  to  contribute  to  the  discussion 
and  settlement  of  local  problems. 

The  conditions  of  life,  also,  had  developed  certain 
qualities  in  the  colonists  which  persisted  and  led  to 
a  general  temper  of  personal  independence  and  self- 
confidence.  The  men  who  had  cleared  the  forests, 
fought  off  the  Indians,  made  homes  in  the  wilder 
ness,  were  inclined  to  think  themselves  capable  de 
tout.  They  valued  their  freedom  to  prove  this  as 
their  most  precious  asset. 

"I  have  some  little  property  in  America,"  said 
Franklin.  "I  will  freely  spend  nineteen  shillings 
in  the  pound  to  defend  the  right  of  giving  or  refus 
ing  the  other  shilling;  and,  after  all,  if  I  cannot 
defend  that  right,  I  can  retire  cheerfully  with  my 
little  family  into  the  boundless  woods  of  America, 
E  49 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

which  are  sure  to  furnish  freedom  and  subsistence 
to  any  man  who  can  bait  a  hook  or  pull  a  trigger." 
It  is  rather  startling  to  think  of  Franklin  as  gaining 
his  living  as  a  hunter  or  a  fisherman ;  but  no  doubt 
he  could  have  done  it. 

The  wonderful  prosperity  and  the  amazing  growth 
of  the  colonies  fostered  this  spirit  of  self-reliance. 
Their  wealth  was  increasing  more  rapidly,  in  pro 
portion,  than  the  wealth  of  England.  Their  popu 
lation  grew  from  an  original  stock  of  perhaps  a 
hundred  thousand  immigrants  to  two  million  in 
1776,  a  twenty-fold  advance;  while  in  the  same 
period  of  time  England  had  only  grown  from  five 
millions  to  eight  millions,  less  than  twofold. 

The  conflicts  with  the  French  power  in  Canada 
also  had  a  powerful  influence  in  consolidating  the 
colonies  and  teaching  them  their  strength.  The 
first  Congress  in  which  they  were  all  invited  to  take 
part  was  called  in  New  York  in  1690  to  cooperate 
in  war  measures  against  Canada.  Three  long, 
costly,  and  bloody  French-Indian  wars,  in  which 
the  colonists  felt  they  bore  the  brunt  of  the  burden 
and  the  fighting,  drew  them  closer  together,  made 
them  conscious  of  their  common  interests  and  of 
their  resources. 

But  their  victory  in  the  last  of  these  wars  had 
also  another  effect.  It  opened  the  way  for  a  change 
of  policy  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain  towards  her 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

American  colonies,  —  a  change  which  involved 
their  reorganization,  their  subordination  to  the  au 
thority  of  the  British  Parliament,  and  the  "weav 
ing  "  cf  them,  as  ex- Governor  Pownall  put  it,  into 
"a  grand  marine  dominion  consisting  of  our  pos 
sessions  in  the  Atlantic  and  in  America  united  into 
one  empire,  into  one  centre  where  the  seat  of  govern 
ment  is."  This  was  undoubtedly  imperialism. 
And  it  was  because  the  Americans  felt  this  that 
the  spirit  of  self-reliance  rose  against  the  new  policy 
and  stubbornly  resisted  every  step,  even  the  small 
est,  which  seemed  to  them  to  lead  in  the  direction 
of  subjugation  and  dependency. 

Followed  ten  years  of  acrimonious  and  violent 
controversy  and  eight  years  of  war,  —  about  what  ? 
The  Stamp  Act?  the  Paint,  Paper,  and  Glass  Act? 
the  Tax  on  Tea?  the  Boston  Port  Bill? 

No;  but  at  bottom  about  the  right  and  intention 
of  the  colonies  to  continue  to  direct  themselves. 
You  cannot  possibly  understand  the  American 
Revolution  unless  you  understand  this.  And  with 
out  an  understanding  of  the  causes  and  the  nature 
of  the  Revolution,  you  cannot  comprehend  the 
United  States  of  to-day. 

Take,  for  example,  the  division  of  opinion  among 
the  colonists  themselves,  —  a  division  far  more 
serious  and  far  more  nearly  equal  in  numbers  than 
is  commonly  supposed.  It  was  not  true,  as  the 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

popular  histories  of  the  Revolution  used  to  assume, 
that  all  the  brave,  the  wise,  the  virtuous,  and  the 
honest  were  on  one  side,  and  all  the  cowardly,  the 
selfish,  the  base,  and  the  insincere  were  on  the  other. 
There  was  probably  as  much  sincerity  and  virtue 
among  the  loyalists  as  among  the  patriots.  There 
was  certainly  as  much  intelligence  and  education 
among  the  patriots  as  among  the  loyalists.  The 
difference  was  this.  The  loyalists  were,  for  the 
most  part,  families  and  individuals  who  had  been 
connected,  socially  and  industrially,  with  the  royal 
source  of  power  and  order,  through  the  governors 
and  other  officials  who  came  from  England  or  were 
appointed  there.  Naturally  they  felt  that  the  pro 
tection,  guidance,  and  support  of  England  were  in 
dispensable  to  the  colonies.  The  patriots  were,  for 
the  most  part,  families  and  individuals  whose  inti 
mate  relations  had  been  with  the  colonial  assem 
blies,  with  the  popular  efforts  for  self-development 
and  self-rule,  with  the  movements  which  tended  to 
strengthen  their  confidence  in  their  own  powers. 
Naturally  they  felt  that  freedom  of  action,  deliverance 
from  external  control,  and  the  fullest  opportunity 
of  self-guidance  were  indispensable  to  the  colonies. 

The  names  chosen  by  the  two  parties  —  "loyal 
ist"  and  " patriot" — were  both  honourable,  and 
seem  at  first  sight  almost  synonymous.  But  there  is 
a  delicate  shade  of  difference  in  their  inward  sig- 

52 


SELF-RELIANCE  AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

nificance.  The  loyalist  is  one  who  sincerely  owns 
allegiance  to  a  sovereign  power,  which  may  be 
external  to  him,  but  to  which  he  feels  bound  to  be 
loyal.  The  patriot  is  one  who  has  found  his  own 
country,  of  which  he  is  a  part,  and  for  which  he  is 
willing  to  live  and  die.  It  was  because  the  patriotic 
party  appealed  primarily  to  the  spirit  of  self-reliance 
that  they  carried  the  majority  of  the  American 
people  with  them,  and  won  the  victory,  not  only  in 
the  internal  conflict,  but  also  in  the  war  of  inde 
pendence. 

I  am  not  ignorant  nor  unmindful  of  the  part 
which  European  philosophers  and  political  theorists 
played  in  supplying  the  patriotic  party  in  America 
with  logical  arguments  and  philosophic  reasons  for 
the  practical  course  which  they  followed.  The  doc 
trines  of  John  Locke  and  Algernon  Sidney  were 
congenial  and  sustaining  to  men  who  had  already 
resolved  to  govern  themselves.  From  Holland  aid 
and  comfort  came  in  the  works  of  Grotius.  Italy 
gave  inspiration  and  support  in  the  books  of  Bec- 
caria  and  Burlamaqui  on  the  essential  principles  of 
liberty.  The  French  intellect,  already  preparing  for 
another  revolution,  did  much  to  clarify  and  ration 
alize  American  thought  through  the  sober  and 
searching  writings  of  Montesquieu,  and  perhaps 
even  more  to  supply  it  with  enthusiastic  eloquence 
through  the  dithyrambic  theories  of  Rousseau.  The 

53 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

doctrines  of  natural  law,  and  the  rights  of  man, 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  were  freely  used  by 
the  patriotic  orators  to  enforce  their  appeals  to  the 
people.  It  is  impossible  not  to  recognize  the  voice 
of  the  famous  Genevese  in  the  words  of  Alexander 
Hamilton:  "The  sacred  rights  of  men  are  not  to 
be  rummaged  for  among  old  parchments  or  musty 
records.  They  are  written  as  with  a  sunbeam  in  the 
whole  volume  of  human  nature  by  the  hand  of  divin 
ity  itself,  and  can  never  be  erased  by  mortal  power." 

But  it  still  remains  true  that  the  mainspring  of 
American  independence  is  not  to  be  found  in  any 
philosophic  system  or  in  any  political  theory.  It 
was  a  vital  impulse,  a  common  sentiment  in  the 
soul  of  a  people  conscious  of  the  ability  and  the 
determination  to  manage  their  own  affairs.  The 
logic  which  they  followed  was  the  logic  of  events 
and  results.  They  were  pragma  tists,  The  spirit 
of  self-reliance  led  them  on,  reluctantly,  inevitably, 
step  by  step,  through  remonstrance,  recalcitrance, 
resistance,  until  they  came  to  the  republic. 

"Permit  us  to  be  as  free  as  yourselves,"  they  said 
to  the  people  of  Great  Britain,  "and  we  shall  ever 
esteem  a  union  with  you  to  be  our  greatest  glory 
and  our  greatest  happiness."  "No,"  answered  Par 
liament.  "Protect  us  as  a  loving  father,"  they  said 
to  the  king,  "and  forbid  a  licentious  ministry  any 
longer  to  riot  in  the  ruins  of  mankind."  "No," 

54 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

answered  the  king.  "Very  well,  then,"  said  the 
colonists,  "we  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  free 
and  independent.  We  have  governed  ourselves. 
We  are  able  to  govern  ourselves.  We  shall  con 
tinue  to  govern  ourselves,  under  such  forms  as  we 
already  possess;  and  when  these  are  not  sufficient, 
we  will  make  such  forms  as  shall,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  representatives  of  the  people,  best  conduce  to  the 
happiness  and  safety  of  their  constituents  in  particu 
lar  and  of  America  in  general" 

This  resolution  of  the  Continental  Congress,  on 
May  10,  1776,  gives  the  key-note  of  all  subsequent 
American  history.  Republicanism  was  not  adopted 
because  it  was  the  only  conceivable,  or  rational,  or 
legitimate,  form  of  government.  It  was  continued, 
enlarged,  organized,  consolidated,  because  it  was 
the  form  in  which  the  spirit  of  self-reliance  in  the 
whole  people  found  itself  most  at  home,  most  happy 
and  secure. 

The  federal  Union  of  the  States  was  established, 
after  long  and  fierce  argument,  under  the  pressure 
of  necessity,  because  it  was  evidently  the  only  way 
to  safeguard  the  permanence  and  freedom  of  those 
States,  as  well  as  to  "establish  justice,  ensure  do 
mestic  tranquillity,  provide  for  the  common  defence, 
promote  the  general  welfare,  and  secure  the  bless 
ings  of  liberty  to  ourselves  and  our  posterity." 

The  Amendments  to  the  Constitution  which  were 

55 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

adopted  in  1791  (and  without  the  promise  of  which  the 
original  document  never  would  have  been  accepted) 
were  of  the  nature  of  a  Bill  of  Rights,  securing  to 
every  citizen  liberty  of  conscience  and  speech,  pro 
tection  against  arbitrary  arrest,  imprisonment,  or 
deprivation  of  property,  and  especially  reserving  to 
the  respective  States  or  to  the  people  all  powers  not 
delegated  to  the  United  States. 

The  division  of  the  general  government  into  three 
branches  —  legislative,  executive,  and  judicial;  the 
strict  delimitation  of  the  powers  committed  to  these 
three  branches;  the  careful  provision  of  checks  and 
counterchecks  intended  to  prevent  the  predominance 
of  any  one  branch  over  the  others ;  all  these  are  fea 
tures  against  which  political  theorists  and  philoso 
phers  may  bring,  and  have  brought,  strong  arguments. 
They  hinder  quick  action;  they  open  the  way  to 
contests  of  authority;  they  are  often  a  serious  draw 
back  in  international  diplomacy.  But  they  express 
the  purpose  of  a  self-reliant  people  not  to  let  the 
ultimate  power  pass  from  their  hands  to  any  one  of 
the  instruments  which  they  have  created.  And  for 
this  purpose  they  have  worked  well,  and  are  still  in 
working  order.  For  this  reason  the  Americans  are 
proud  of  them  to  a  degree  which  other  nations 
sometimes  think  unreasonable,  and  attached  to 
them  with  a  devotion  which  other  nations  do  not 
always  understand. 

56 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

Do  not  mistake  me.  In  saying  that  American 
republicanism  is  not  the  product  of  philosophical 
argument,  of  abstract  theory,  of  reasoned  convic 
tion,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Americans  do  not 
believe  in  it.  They  do. 

Now  and  then  you  will  find  one  of  them  who  says 
that  he  would  prefer  a  monarchy  or  an  aristocracy. 
But  you  may  be  sure  that  he  is  an  eccentric,  or  a  man 
with  a  grievance  against  the  custom-house,  or  a  fond 
person  who  feels  confident  of  his  own  place  in  the  royal 
family  or  at  least  in  the  nobility.  You  may  safely 
leave  him  out  in  trying  to  understand  the  real  Spirit 
of  America. 

The  people  as  a  whole  believe  in  the  republic 
very  firmly,  and  at  times  very  passionately.  And 
the  vital  reason  for  this  belief  is  because  it  springs 
out  of  life  and  is  rooted  in  life.  It  comes  from 
that  spirit  of  self-reliance  which  has  been  and  is 
still  the  strongest  American  characteristic,  in  the 
individual,  the  community,  and  the  nation. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  must  apprehend  this  in 
order  to  comprehend  many  things  that  are  funda 
mental  in  the  life  of  America  and  the  character  of 
her  people.  Let  me  speak  of  a  few  of  these  things, 
and  try  to  show  how  they  have  their  roots  in  this 
quality  of  self-reliance. 

Take,  for  example,  the  singular  political  construc- 
57 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

tion  of  the  nation,  — •  a  thing  which  Europeans  find 
it  almost  impossible  to  understand  without  a  long 
residence  in  America.  It  is  a  united  country  com 
posed  of  States  which  have  a  distinct  individual  life 
and  a  carefully  guarded  sovereignty. 

Massachusetts,  New  York,  Virginia,  Illinois, 
Texas,  California,  even  the  little  States  like  Rhode 
Island  and  Maryland,  are  political  entities  just  as 
real,  just  as  conscious  of  their  own  being,  as  the  United 
States,  of  which  each  of  them  forms  an  integral  part. 
They  have  their  own  laws,  their  own  courts,  their 
own  systems  of  domestic  taxation,  their  own  flags, 
their  own  militia,  their  own  schools  and  universi 
ties.  "The  American  citizen,"  Professor  Miinster- 
berg  rightly  says,  "in  daily  life  is  first  of  all  a  mem 
ber  of  his  special  State." 

This  distinction  of  local  life  is  not  to  be  traced  to 
an  original  allegiance  to  different  owners  or  lords,  a 
duke  of  Savoy  or  Burgundy,  a  king  of  Prussia  or 
Saxony.  It  is  quite  unlike  the  difference  among  the 
provinces  of  the  French  republic  or  the  states  of  the 
German  Empire.  It  is  primarily  the  result  of  a  local 
spirit  of  self-reliance,  a  habit  of  self-direction,  in  the 
people  who  have  worked  together  to  build  up  these 
States,  to  develop  their  resources,  to  give  them  shape 
and  substance.  This  is  the  true  explanation  of  State 
pride,  and  of  the  sense  of  an  individual  life  in  the 
different  commonwealths  which  compose  the  nation. 

58 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

Every  one  knows  that  this  feeling  was  so  strong 
immediately  after  the  Revolution  that  it  nearly 
made  the  Union  impossible.  Every  one  knows 
that  this  feeling  was  so  strong  in  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century  that  it  nearly  destroyed  the 
Union.  But  every  one  does  not  know  that  this 
feeling  is  still  extant  and  active,  —  an  essential  and 
potent  factor  in  the  political  life  of  America. 

The  Civil  War  settled  once  for  all  the  open  and 
long-disputed  question  of  the  nature  of  the  tie  which 
binds  the  States  together.  The  Union  may  be  a 
compact,  but  it  is  an  indissoluble  compact.  The 
United  States  is  not  a  confederacy.  It  is  a  nation. 
Yet  the  local  sovereignty  of  the  States  which  it  em 
braces  has  not  been  touched.  The  spirit  of  self- 
reliance  in  each  commonwealth  guards  its  rights 
jealously,  and  the  law  of  the  nation  protects  them. 

It  was  but  a  little  while  ago  that  a  proposal 
was  made  in  Congress  to  unite  the  territories  of 
Arizona  and  New  Mexico  and  admit  them  to  the 
Union  as  one  State.  But  the  people  of  Arizona  pro 
tested.  They  did  not  wish  to  be  mixed  up  with 
people  of  New  Mexico,  for  whom  they  professed 
dislike  and  even  contempt.  They  would  rather 
stay  out  than  come  in  under  such  conditions.  The 
protest  was  sufficient  to  block  the  proposed  action. 

I  have  been  reading  lately  a  series  of  recent  deci 
sions  by  the  Supreme  Court,  touching  on  various 

59 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

questions,  like  the  right  of  one  State  to  make  the 
C.O.D.  shipment  of  whiskey  from  another  State  a 
penal  offence,  or  the  right  of  the  United  States  to 
interfere  with  the  State  of  Colorado  in  the  use  of 
the  water  of  the  Arkansas  River  for  purposes  of 
irrigation.  In  all  of  these  decisions,  whether  on 
whiskey  or  on  water,  I  find  that  the  great  principle 
laid  down  by  Chief  Justice  Marshall  is  clearly  ad 
mitted  and  sustained:  "The  Government  of  the 
United  States  is  one  of  enumerated  powers."  Further 
powers  can  be  obtained  only  by  a  new  grant  from 
the  people.  "One  cardinal  rule,"  says  Justice 
Brewer,  "underlying  all  the  relations  of  the  States 
to  each  other  is  that  of  equality  of  right.  Each 
State  stands  on  the  same  level  with  all  the  rest.  It 
can  impose  its  own  legislation  on  none  of  the  others, 
and  is  bound  to  yield  its  own  views  to  none." 

Now  it  is  evident  that  this  peculiar  structure  of 
the  nation  necessarily  permits,  perhaps  implies,  a 
constant  rivalry  between  two  forms  of  the  spirit  of 
self-reliance,  —  the  local  form  and  the  general  form. 

Emphasize  the  one,  and  you  have  a  body  of 
public  opinion  which  moves  in  the  direction  of 
strengthening,  enhancing,  perhaps  enlarging,  the 
powers  given  to  the  central  government.  Empha 
size  the  other,  and  you  have  a  body  of  public 
opinion  which  opposes  every  encroachment  upon 
the  powers  reserved  to  the  local  governments,  and 

60 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND  THE   REPUBLIC 

seeks  to  strengthen  the  whole  by  fortifying  the  parts 
of  which  it  is  composed. 

Here  you  have  the  two  great  political  parties  of 
America.  They  are  called  to-day  the  Republican 
and  the  Democratic.  But  the  names  mean  noth 
ing.  In  fact,  the  party  which  now  calls  itself  Demo 
cratic  bore  the  name  of  Republican  down  to  1832; 
and  those  who  were  called  successively  Federalists 
and  Whigs  did  not  finally  take  the  name  of  Repub 
licans  until  1860.  In  reality,  political  opinion,  or 
perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  political 
feeling,  divides  on  this  great  question  of  the  centrali 
zation  or  the  division  of  power.  The  controversy 
lies  between  the  two  forms  of  the  spirit  of  self- 
reliance;  that  which  is  embodied  in  the  conscious 
ness  of  the  whole  nation  and  that  which  is  embodied 
in  the  consciousness  of  each  community.  The 
Democrats  naturally  speak  for  the  latter;  the  Re 
publicans  for  the  former. 

Of  course  in  our  campaigns  and  elections  the 
main  issue  is  often  confused  and  beclouded.  New 
problems  and  disputes  arise  in  which  the  bearing  of 
proposed  measures  is  not  clear.  The  parties  have 
come  to  be  great  physical  organizations,  with  vested 
interests  to  defend,  with  an  outward  life  to  perpetu 
ate.  Like  all  human  institutions,  both  of  them 
have  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  They  both 
try  to  follow  the  tide  of  popular  sentiments.  They 

61 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

both  insert  planks  in  their  platforms  which  seem 
likely  to  win  votes.  Sometimes  they  both  hit  upon 
the  same  planks,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  determine 
the  original  ownership. 

At  present,  for  example,  the  great  industrial  and 
commercial  trusts  and  corporations  are  very  un 
popular.  The  Democrats  and  the  Republicans  both 
declare  their  intention  to  correct  and  restrain  them. 
Each  party  claims  to  be  the  original  friend  of  the 
people,  the  real  St.  George  who  will  certainly  slay 
the  Dragon  of  Trusts.  Thus  we  have  had  the  amus 
ing  spectacle  of  Mr.  Bryan  commending  and  prais 
ing  Mr.  Roosevelt  for  his  conversion  to  truly  Demo 
cratic  principles  and  policies,  and  adding  that  the 
Democrats  were  the  right  men  to  carry  them  out, 
while  Mr.  Taft  insisted  that  the  popular  measures 
were  essentially  Republican,  and  that  his  party  was 
the  only  one  which  could  be  trusted  to  execute  them 
wisely  and  safely. 

But,  in  spite  of  these  temporary  bewilderments, 
you  will  find,  in  the  main,  that  the  Republicans 
have  a  tendency  towards  centralizing  measures, 
and  therefore  incline  to  favour  national  banks,  a 
protective  tariff,  enlargement  of  executive  functions, 
colonial  expansion,  a  greater  naval  and  military 
establishment,  and  a  consequent  increase  of  national 
expenditure;  while  the  Democrats,  as  a  rule,  are  on 
the  side  of  non-centralizing  measures,  and  therefore 

62 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND    THE   REPUBLIC 

inclined  to  favour  a  large  and  elastic  currency,  free 
trade  or  tariff  for  revenue  only,  strict  interpretation 
of  the  Constitution,  an  army  and  navy  sufficient  for 
police  purposes,  a  progressive  income  tax,  and  a 
general  policy  of  national  economy. 

The  important  thing  to  remember  is  that  these 
two  forms  of  the  spirit  of  self-reliance,  the  general 
and  the  local,  still  exist  side  by  side  in  American 
political  life,  and  that  it  is  probably  a  good  thing  to 
have  them  represented  in  two  great  parties,  in  order 
that  a  due  balance  may  be  kept  between  them. 

The  tendency  to  centralization  has  been  in  the 
lead,  undoubtedly,  during  the  last  forty  years.  It  is 
in  accord  with  what  is  called  the  spirit  of  the  age. 
But  the  other  tendency  is  still  deep  and  strong  in 
America,  —  stronger  I  believe  than  anywhere  else 
in  the  world.  The  most  valuable  rights  of  the 
citizen  (except  in  territories  and  colonies),  his  per 
sonal  freedom,  family  relations,  and  property,  are 
still  protected  mainly  by  the  State  in  which  he  lives 
and  of  which  he  is  a  member,  —  a  State  which  is 
politically  unknown  to  any  foreign  nation,  and 
which  exists  only  for  the  other  States  which  are 
united  with  it ! 

A  curious  condition  of  affairs !  Yet  it  is  real.  It 
is  historically  accountable.  It  belongs  to  the  Spirit 
of  America.  For  the  people  of  that  country  think 
with  Tocqueville  that  "Those  who  dread  the 

63 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

license  of  the  mob,  and  those  who  fear  absolute 
power,  ought  alike  to  desire  the  gradual  develop 
ment  of  provincial  liberties." 

This  is  the  way  in  which  America  was  made. 
This  is  how  Americans  wish  to  keep  it.  An  attempt 
of  either  party  in  power  to  destroy  the  principle  for 
which  the  other  stands  would  certainly  fail.  The 
day  when  it  seemed  possible  to  dissolve  the  Union 
is  past.  The  day  when  the  Union  will  absorb  and 
obliterate  the  States  is  not  in  sight. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  this  relation  of  the  States 
and  the  nation  that  you  may  see  the  workings  of 
the  spirit  of  which  I  am  speaking.  Within  each 
State  the  spirit  of  self-reliance  is  developed  and 
cherished  in  city,  county,  and  township.  Public  im 
provements,  roads  and  streets,  police,  education,  — 
these  are  the  important  things  which,  as  a  rule,  the 
State  leaves  to  the  local  community.  The  city,  the 
county,  the  township,  attend  to  them.  They  must 
be  paid  for  out  of  the  local  pocket.  And  the  local 
talent  of  the  citizens  feels  able  and  entitled  to  regu 
late  them.  Sometimes  it  is  well  done.  Sometimes 
it  is  very  badly  done.  But  the  doing  of  it  is  a 
privilege  which  a  self-reliant  people  would  be  loath 
to  resign. 

Each  man  wishes  to  have  his  share  in  the  dis 
cussion.  The  habit  of  argument  is  universal.  The 
confidence  in  the  ultimate  judgment  of  the  com- 

64 


SELF-RELIANCE  AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

munity  is  general.  The  assurance  of  ability  to  lead 
is  frequent.  And  through  the  local  office,  the 
small  task,  the  way  lies  open  to  larger  duties  and 
positions  in  the  State  and  the  nation. 

It  is  not  true  that  every  native-born  newsboy  in 
America  thinks  that  he  can  become  President.  But 
he  knows  that  he  may  if  he  can;  and  perhaps  it  is 
this  knowledge,  or  perhaps  it  is  something  in  his 
blood,  that  often  encourages  him  to  try  how  far  he 
can  go  on  the  way.  I  suppose  it  is  true  that  there 
are  more  ambitious  boys  in  America  than  in  any 
other  country  of  the  world. 

At  the  same  time  this  spirit  of  self-reliance  works 
in  another  and  different  direction.  Within  the 
seemingly  complicated  politics  of  nation,  State, 
and  town,  each  typical  American  is  a  person  who 
likes  to  take  care  of  himself,  to  have  his  own  way, 
to  manage  his  own  affairs.  He  is  not  inclined  to 
rely  upon  the  State  for  aid  and  comfort.  He  wants 
not  as  much  government  as  possible,  but  as  little. 
He  dislikes  interference.  Sometimes  he  resents  con 
trol.  He  is  an  individual,  a  person,  and  he  feels 
very  strongly  that  personal  freedom  is  what  he 
most  needs,  and  that  he  is  able  to  make  good  use 
of  a  large  amount  of  it. 

Now  it  is  evident  that  such  a  spirit  as  this  has  its 
weakness  as  well  as  its  strength.  It  leads  easily  to 

65 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

overconfidence,  to  ignorant  self-assurance,  to  rash 
ness  in  undertaking  tasks,  and  to  careless  haste  in 
performing  them. 

It  is  good  to  be  a  person,  but  not  good  that 
every  person  should  think  himself  a  personage.  It 
is  good  to  be  ready  for  any  duty,  but  not  good 
to  undertake  any  duty  without  making  ready  for  it. 

There  are  many  Americans  who  have  too  little 
respect  for  special  training,  and  too  much  confidence 
in  their  power  to  solve  the  problems  of  philosophy 
and  statesmanship  extemporaneously. 

No  doubt  there  is  a  popular  tendency  to  dis 
regard  exceptional  powers  and  attainments,  and  to 
think  that  one  man  is  as  good  as  another.  No 
doubt  you  can  find  in  America  some  cases  of  self- 
reliance  so  hypertrophied  that  it  amounts  to  im 
pudence  towards  the  laws  of  the  universe.  This 
is  socially  disagreeable,  politically  dangerous,  and 
morally  regrettable. 

Yet  we  must  not  forget  the  other  side.  The  spirit 
of  self-reliance  is  not  to  be  judged  by  its  failures, 
but  by  its  successes. 

It  has  enabled  America  to  assert  an  indepen 
dence  which  the  rest  of  the  world,  except  France, 
thought  impossible;  to  frame  a  government  which 
the  rest  of  the  world,  including  France,  thought  im 
practicable;  and  to  survive  civil  storms  and  perils 
which  all  the  world  thought  fatal.  It  has  animated 

66 


SELF-RELIANCE   AND   THE   REPUBLIC 

the  American  people  with  a  large  and  cheerful 
optimism  which  takes  for  granted  that  great  things 
are  worth  doing,  and  tries  to  do  them.  It  has 
made  it  easier  to  redeem  a  continent  from  the 
ancient  wilderness  and  to  build  on  new  ground  a 
civilized  state  sufficient  to  itself. 

The  spirit  of  self-reliance  has  fallen  into  mis 
takes,  but  it  has  shunned  delays,  evasions,  and 
despairs.  It  has  begotten  explorers,  pioneers,  in 
ventors.  It  has  trained  masters  of  industry  in  the 
school  of  action.  It  has  saved  the  poor  man  from 
the  fetters  of  his  poverty,  and  delivered  the  lowly 
man  from  the  prison  of  his  obscurity. 

Perhaps  it  has  spoiled  the  worst  material;  but  it 
has  made  the  most  of  the  average  material;  and 
it  has  bettered  the  best  material.  It  has  developed 
in  such  leaders  as  Franklin,  Washington,  Jefferson, 
Lincoln,  Lee,  Grant,  and  Cleveland  a  very  noble 
and  excellent  manhood,  calm,  steady,  equal  to  all 
emergencies. 

Somehow  it  has  brought  out  of  the  turmoil  of 
events  and  conflicts  the  soul  of  an  adult  people, 
ready  to  trust  itself  and  to  advance  into  the  new 
day  without  misgiving. 


67 


Ill 

FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 


Ill 

FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

IT  is  no  mistake  to  think  of  America  as  a  demo 
cratic  country.  But  if  you  wish  to  understand  the 
nature  and  quality  of  the  democracy  which  pre 
vails  there,  —  its  specific  marks,  its  peculiarities, 
and  perhaps  its  inconsistencies,  —  you  must  trace 
it  to  its  source  in  the  spirit  of  fair  play.  Therefore 
it  will  be  profitable  to  study  this  spirit  a  little  more 
carefully,  to  define  it  a  little  more  clearly,  and  to 
consider  some  illustrations  of  its  working  in  Ameri 
can  institutions,  society,  and  character. 

The  spirit  of  fair  play,  in  its  deepest  origin,  is  a 
kind  of  religion.  It  is  true  that  religious  organiza 
tions  have  not  always  shown  it  so  that  it  could  be 
identified  by  people  outside.  But  this  has  been 
the  fault  of  the  organizations.  At  bottom,  fair  play 
is  a  man's  recognition  of  the  fact  that  he  is  not 
alone  in  the  universe,  that  the  world  was  not  made 
for  his  private  benefit,  that  the  law  of  being  is  a 
benevolent  justice  which  must  regard  and  rule  him 
as  well  as  his  fellow-men  with  sincere  impartiality, 
and  that  any  human  system  or  order  which  inter- 

71 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

feres  with  this  impartiality  is  contrary  to  the  will  of 
the  Supreme  Wisdom  and  Love.  Is  not  this  a  kind 
of  religion,  and  a  very  good  kind?  Do  we  not  in 
stinctively  recognize  a  Divine  authority  in  its  voice 
when  it  says:  " Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  unto  them"? 

But  in  its  practical  operation  in  everyday  affairs 
this  spirit  is  not  always  conscious  of  its  deep  origin. 
It  is  not  usually  expressed  in  terms  of  religion,  any 
more  than  an  ordinary  weighing-machine  is  in 
scribed  with  the  formula  of  gravitation.  It  appears 
simply  as  the  wish  to  conduct  trade  with  just  weights 
and  measures,  to  live  in  a  State  which  affords  equal 
protection  and  opportunity  to  all  its  citizens,  to  play 
a  game  in  which  the  rules  are  the  same  for  every 
player,  and  a  good  stroke  counts,  no  matter  who 
makes  it. 

The  Anglo-Saxon  race  has  fallen  into  the  habit 
of  claiming  this  spirit  of  fair  play  as  its  own  peculiar 
property.  The  claim  does  not  illustrate  the  quality 
which  it  asserts.  Certainly  no  one  can  defend  the 
proposition  that  the  growth  of  this  spirit  in  America 
was  due  exclusively,  or  even  chiefly,  to  English  in 
fluence.  It  was  in  New  England  and  in  Virginia 
that  ecclesiastical  intolerance  and  social  exclusive- 
ness  were  most  developed.  In  the  middle  colonies 
like  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  Delaware,  where 
the  proportion  of  colonists  from  Holland,  France, 

72 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

and  Germany  was  much  larger,  a  more  liberal  and 
tolerant  spirit  prevailed. 

But,  after  all,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  in 
the  beginning  there  was  no  part  of  America  where 
the  spirit  of  self-reliance  really  carried  with  it  that 
necessary  complement,  —  the  spirit  of  fair  play. 
This  was  a  thing  of  much  slower  growth.  Indeed, 
it  was  not  until  the  American  people,  passionately 
desiring  self-rule,  were  brought  into  straits  where 
they  needed  the  help  of  every  man  to  fight  for  in 
dependence,  that  they  began  to  feel  the  right  of 
every  man  to  share  equally  in  the  benefits  and  privi 
leges  of  that  self-rule. 

I  pass  by  the  discussion  of  the  reasons  why  this 
second  trait  in  the  soul  of  the  people  developed  later 
than  the  first.  I  pass  by  the  tempting  opportunity 
to  describe  the  absurd  pretensions  of  colonial  aris 
tocracy.  I  pass  by  the  familiar  theme  of  the  in 
flexible  prejudices  of  Puritan  theocracy,  which  led 
men  to  interpret  liberty  of  conscience  as  the  right 
to  practise  their  own  form  of  worship  and  to  perse 
cute  all  others.  I  pass  by  the  picturesque  and  neg 
lected  spectacle  of  the  violence  of  the  mobs  which 
shouted  for  liberty  —  a  violence  which  reminds  one 
of  the  saying  of  Rivarol  that  "the  crowd  never  be 
lieves  that  it  has  liberty  until  it  attacks  the  liberties 
of  others."  All  this  I  pass  by  for  want  of  time, 
and  come  at  once  to  the  classic  utterance  of  the 

73 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

spirit  of  fair  play  in  America  —  I  mean  the  Decla* 
ration  of  Independence. 

If  I  must  apologize  for  discussing  a  document  so 
familiar,  it  is  because  familiarity,  not  being  illumi 
nated  by  intelligence,  has  bred  in  these  latter  days 
a  certain  kind  of  contempt.  A  false  interpretation 
has  led  the  enthusiastic  admirers  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  to  complain  that  it  has  been 
abandoned,  and  its  scornful  despisers  to  say  that  it 
ought  to  be  abandoned.  The  Declaration,  in  fact, 
has  been  as  variously  and  as  absurdly  explained  as 
the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  of  whom  a  French  critic 
said  that  "the  only  man  of  the  second  century  who 
understood  St.  Paul  was  Marcion,  and  he  misunder 
stood  him." 

Take  the  famous  sentence  from  the  beginning  of 
that  document.  "We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self- 
evident;  that  all  men  are  created  equal;  that  they 
are  endowed  by  their  Creator  with  certain  inalien 
able  rights;  that  among  these  are  life,  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness ;  that  to  secure  these  rights, 
governments  are  instituted  among  men,  deriving 
their  just  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed; 
that  whenever  any  form  of  government  becomes  de 
structive  of  these  ends,  it  is  the  right  of  the  people 
to  alter  or  to  abolish  it,  and  to  institute  a  new  form 
of  government,  laying  its  foundations  on  such  prin 
ciples  and  organizing  its  power  in  such  form  as  to 

74 


FAIR    PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

them  shall  seem  most  likely  to  effect  their  safety  and 
happiness." 

Now  what  have  we  here?  A  defence  of  revolu 
tion,  no  doubt,  but  not  a  sweeping  and  unqualified 
defence.  It  is  carefully  guarded  and  limited  by  the 
condition  that  revolution  is  justified  only  when  gov 
ernment  becomes  destructive  of  its  own  ends, — 
the  security  and  the  happiness  of  the  people. 

And  what  have  we  here  in  the  way  of  political 
doctrine?  An  assertion  of  the  common  rights  of 
man  as  derived  from  his  Creator,  no  doubt,  and  an 
implication  that  the  specific  prerogatives  of  rulers 
are  not  of  divine  origin.  But  there  is  no  denial  that 
the  institution  of  government  among  men  has  a 
divine  sanction.  On  the  contrary,  such  a  sanction 
is  distinctly  implied  in  the  statement  that  govern 
ment  is  necessary  for  the  security  of  rights  divinely 
given.  There  is  no  assertion  of  the  divinity  or  even 
the  superiority  of  any  particular  form  of  govern 
ment,  republican  or  democratic.  On  the  contrary, 
"just  powers"  are  recognized  as  derivable  from  the 
consent  of  the  people.  According  to  this  view,  a 
happy  and  consenting  people  under  George  III  or 
Louis  XVI  would  be  as  rightly  and  lawfully  governed 
as  a  happy  people  under  a  congress  and  a  president. 

And  what  have  we  here  in  the  way  of  social 
theory?  An  assertion  of  equality,  no  doubt,  and 
a  very  flat-footed  and  peremptory  assertion.  "All 

75 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

men  are  created  equal."  But  equal  in  what?  In 
strength,  in  ability,  in  influence,  in  possessions.  Not 
a  word  of  it.  The  assertion  of  such  a  thing  in 
an  assembly  which  contained  men  as  different  as 
George  Washington,  with  his  lofty  stature  and  rich 
estate,  and  Samuel  Adams,  for  whose  unimpressive 
person  his  friends  were  sometimes  obliged  to  supply 
lodging  and  raiment,  would  have  been  a  palpable 
absurdity. 

"But,"  says  Professor  Wendell,  "the  Declaration 
only  asserts  that  men  are  created  equal,  not  that 
they  must  remain  so."  Not  at  all.  It  implies 
that  what  equality  exists  by  creation  ought  to 
remain  by  protection.  It  is,  and  ought  to  be, 
inalienable. 

But  what  is  that  equality?  Not  of  person; 
for  that  would  be  to  say  that  all  men  are  alike, 
which  is  evidently  false.  Not  of  property;  for 
that  would  be  to  say  that  all  men  are  on  a  level, 
which  never  has  been  true,  and,  whether  it  is  de 
sirable  or  not,  probably  never  will  be  true.  The 
equality  which  is  asserted  among  men  refers  simply 
to  the  rights  which  are  common  to  men :  life,  liberty, 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  Here  government 
must  make  no  distinctions,  no  exceptions.  Here 
the  social  order  must  impose  no  arbitrary  and  un 
equal  deprivations  and  barriers.  The  life  of  all  is 
equally  sacred,  the  liberty  of  all  must  be  equally 

76 


FAIR   PLAY  AND    DEMOCRACY 

secure,  in  order  that  the  right  of  all  to  pursue  happi 
ness  may  be  equally  open. 

Equality  of  opportunity :  that  is  the  proposition  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  And  when  you 
come  to  look  at  it  closely,  it  does  not  seem  at  all 
unreasonable.  For  it  proposes  no  alteration  in  the 
laws  of  the  universe,  —  only  a  principle  to  be  ob 
served  in  human  legislation.  It  predicts  no  Utopia 
of  universal  prosperity,  —  only  a  common  adven 
ture  of  equal  risks  and  hopes.  It  has  not  the  accent 
of  that  phrase,  ''Liberty,  equality,  fraternity,  or 
death,"  which  Chamfort  translated  so  neatly,  "Be 
my  brother  or  I  will  kill  you."  It  proceeds  rather 
upon  the  assumption  that  fraternity  already  exists. 
It  says,  "We  are  brothers;  therefore  let  us  deal 
squarely  with  one  another."  It  is,  in  fact,  nothing 
more  and  nothing  less  than  the  voice  of  the  spirit 
of  fair  play  speaking  gravely  of  the  deepest  interests 
of  man.  Here,  in  this  game  of  life,  it  says,  as  we 
play  it  in  America,  the  rules  shall  be  the  same  for 
all.  The  penalties  shall  be  the  same  for  all.  The 
prizes,  so  far  as  we  can  make  it  so,  shall  be  open  to 
all.  And  let  the  best  man  win. 

This,  so  far  as  I  can  see  it,  or  feel  it,  or  com 
prehend  it,  is  the  sum  total  of  democracy  in  America. 

It  is  not  an  abstract  theory  of  universal  suffrage 
and  the  infallibility  of  the  majority.  For,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  universal  suffrage  never  has  existed 

77 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

in  the  United  States  and  does  not  exist  to-day. 
Each  State  has  the  right  to  fix  its  own  conditions  of 
suffrage.  It  may  require  a  property  qualification; 
and  in  the  past  many  States  imposed  this  condition. 
It  may  require  an  educational  qualification;  and 
to-day  some  States  are  imposing  this  condition.  It 
may  exclude  the  Chinese;  and  California,  Oregon, 
and  Nevada  make  this  exclusion.  It  may  admit 
only  natives  and  foreigners  who  have  been  natural 
ized,  as  the  majority  of  the  States  do.  It  may 
admit  also  foreigners  who  have  merely  declared 
their  intention  of  becoming  naturalized,  as  eleven 
of  the  States  do.  It  may  permit  only  men  to  vote, 
or  it  may  expressly  grant  the  suffrage  to  every  citizen, 
male  or  female,  as  Idaho,  Wyoming,  Colorado,  and 
Utah  do.  The  only  thing  that  the  law  of  the  nation 
says  upon  the  subject  is  that  when  citizenship  is 
established,  the  right  to  vote  shall  not  be  denied  or 
abridged  on  account  of  race,  colour,  or  previous 
condition  of  servitude. 

It  is  entirely  possible,  therefore,  that  within  this 
condition,  suffrage  should  expand  or  contract  in  the 
United  States  according  to  the  will  of  the  people. 
Woman  suffrage  might  come  in  next  year  without 
the  change  of  a  word  in  the  Constitution.  All  that 
would  be  necessary  would  be  a  change  in  the  mind 
of  the  women,  the  majority  of  whom  at  present  do 
not  want  to  vote,  and  would  not  do  it  if  you  paid 


FAIR   PLAY   AND   DEMOCRACY 

them.  On  the  other  hand,  educational  and  property 
qualifications  might  be  proposed  which  would  re 
duce  the  suffrage  by  a  quarter  or  a  third;  but  this, 
again,  is  not  likely  to  happen.  The  point  is  that 
suffrage  in  America  is  not  regarded  as  a  universal 
and  inalienable  human  right,  but  as  a  political 
privilege  granted  on  the  ground  of  fair  play  in  order 
to  make  the  rights  of  the  people  more  secure. 

The  undeniable  tendency  has  been  to  widen  the 
suffrage ;  for  Americans,  as  a  rule,  have  a  large  con 
fidence  in  the  reasonableness  of  human  nature,  and 
believe  that  public  opinion,  properly  and  deliber 
ately  ascertained,  will  prove  to  be  a  wise  and  safe 
guide.  But  they  recognize  that  a  popular  election 
may  not  always  represent  public  opinion,  that  a 
people,  like  an  individual,  may  and  probably  will 
need  time  to  arrive  at  the  best  thought,  the  wisest 
counsel. 

President  Grover  Cleveland,  a  confirmed  and 
inflexible  Democrat,  but  not  an  obstreperous  or 
flamboyant  one,  often  said  to  me,  "You  can  trust 
the  best  judgment  of  the  rank  and  file,  but  you 
cannot  always  reach  that  best  judgment  in  a  hurry." 
James  Russell  Lowell  said  pretty  much  the  same 
thing:  "An  appeal  to  the  reason  of  the  people  has 
never  been  known  to  fail  in  the  long  run."  The 
long  run,  —  that  is  the  needful  thing  in  the  suc 
cessful  working  of  popular  suffrage.  And  that  the 

79 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Americans  have  tried  to  gain  by  the  division  and 
distribution  of  powers,  by  the  interposition  of  checks 
and  delays,  by  lodging  extraordinary  privileges  of 
veto  in  the  hands  of  governors  of  States,  and  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States.  In  short,  by  making 
swift  action  difficult  and  sudden  action  impossible, 
they  have  sought  to  secure  fair  play,  even  from 
the  crowd,  for  every  man  and  every  interest. 

There  are  some  of  us  who  think  that  this  might 
have  been  done  more  easily  and  more  certainly  if 
the  bounds  of  suffrage  had  not  been  made  so  wide. 
We  doubt,  for  example,  whether  a  group  of  day- 
labourers  coming  from  Italy  with  their  padrone  are 
really  protected  in  their  natural  rights  by  having  the 
privilege  of  a  vote  before  they  can  understand  the 
language  of  the  land  in  which  they  cast  it.  So  far 
from  being  a  protection,  it  seems  to  us  like  a  danger. 
It  exposes  them  to  the  seductions  of  the  demagogue 
and  to  the  control  of  the  boss. 

The  suffrage  of  the  ignorant  is  like  a  diamond 
hung  round  the  neck  of  a  little  child  who  is  sent  out 
into  the  street :  an  invitation  to  robbers.  It  is  like 
a  stick  of  dynamite  in  the  hands  of  a  foolish  boy: 
a  prophecy  of  explosion. 

There  are  some  of  us  who  think  that  "coming 
of  age"  might  be  measured  by  intelligence  as  well 
as  by  years;  that  it  would  be  easier  to  get  at  the 
mind  of  the  people  if  the  vote  were  cast  by  the 

80 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

people  who  have  minds;  that  a  popular  election 
would  come  nearer  to  representing  public  opinion  if 
there  were  some  way  of  sifting  out  at  least  a  con 
siderable  part  of  those  electors  who  can  neither  read 
nor  write,  nor  understand  the  Constitution  under 
which  they  are  voting. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  thoughts  and  wishes  of 
the  more  conservative  Americans  upon  this  subject, 
two  things  are  certain.  One  is  that  the  privilege  of 
voting  is  a  thing  which  is  easy  to  give  away  and 
very  hard  to  take  back.  The  other  sure  thing  is 
that  the  Spirit  of  America  will  never  consent  to  any 
restriction  of  the  suffrage  which  rests  upon  artificial 
distinctions,  or  seems  to  create  ranks  and  orders 
and  estates  within  the  body  politic.  If  any  condi 
tions  are  imposed,  they  must  be  the  same  for  all. 
If  the  privilege  should  be  in  any  way  narrowed,  it 
must  still  be  open  alike  to  all  who  will  make  the 
necessary  effort  to  attain  it.  This  is  fair  play;  and 
this,  so  far  as  the  suffrage  and  popular  sovereignty 
are  concerned,  is  what  American  democracy  means. 
Not  that  every  man  shall  count  alike  in  the  affairs 
of  state,  but  that  every  man  shall  have  an  equal 
chance  to  make  himself  count  for  what  he  is  worth. 

Mark  you,  I  do  not  say  that  this  result  has  been 
fully  accomplished  in  the  United  States.  The  ma 
chinery  of  parties  interferes  with  it.  The  presenta 
tion  of  men  and  of  measures  from  a  purely  partisan 
G  81 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

point  of  view  interferes  with  it.  In  any  national 
election  it  is  reasonably  sure  that  either  the  Repub 
lican  party  or  the  Democratic  party  will  win.  The 
policies  and  the  candidates  of  both  have  been  deter 
mined  in  committee  or  caucus,  by  processes  which 
the  ordinary  citizen  does  not  understand  and  can 
not  touch.  But  what  if  he  does  not  like  the  results 
on  either  side?  What  if  neither  party  seems  to 
him  clear  or  consistent  or  satisfactory?  Still  he 
must  go  with  one  or  the  other,  or  else  be  content 
to  assert  his  individuality  and  lose  his  electoral  effi 
ciency  by  going  in  with  one  of  the  three  or  four 
little  parties  which  stand  for  moral  protest,  or  intellec 
tual  whim,  or  political  vagary,  without  any  possible 
chance  of  carrying  the  election. 

A  thoughtful  man  sometimes  feels  as  if  he  were 
almost  helpless  amid  the  intricacies  of  the  system  by 
which  his  opinion  on  national  affairs  is  asked.  He 
sits  with  his  vote  in  his  hand  as  if  it  were  some 
strange  and  antiquated  instrument,  and  says  to 
himself,  "Now  what,  in  heaven's  name,  am  I  going 
to  do  with  this  ?  " 

In  the  large  cities,  especially,  this  sense  of  impo 
tence  is  likely  to  trouble  the  intelligent  and  con 
scientious  American.  For  here  a  species  of  man 
has  developed  called  the  Boss,  who  takes  possession 
of  the  political  machinery  and  uses  it  for  his  own 
purposes.  He  controls  the  party  through  a  faction, 

82 


FAIR   PLAY   AND   DEMOCRACY 

and  the  faction  through  a  gang,  and  the  gang  through 
a  ring,  and  the  ring  by  his  own  will,  which  is  usually 
neither  sweet  nor  savoury.  He  virtually  owns  the 
public  franchises,  the  public  offices,  the  public  pay 
roll.  Like  Rob  Roy  or  Robin  Hood,  he  takes 
tribute  from  the  rich  and  distributes  it  to  the  poor, 
— :  for  a  consideration ;  namely,  their  personal  loyalty 
to  him.  He  leads  his  followers  to  the  polls  as  a 
feudal  chief  led  his  retainers  to  battle.  And  the 
men  whom  he  has  chosen,  the  policies  which  he 
approves,  are  the  ones  that  win. 

What  does  this  mean?  The  downfall  of  democ 
racy  ?  No ;  only  the  human  weakness  of  the  system 
in  which  democracy  has  sought  to  reach  its  ends; 
only  the  failure  in  duty,  in  many  cases,  of  the  very 
men  who  ought  to  have  watched  over  the  system  in 
order  to  prevent  its  corruption. 

It  is  because  good  men  in  America  too  often  neglect 
politics  that  bad  men  sometimes  control  them.  And, 
after  all,  when  the  evil  goes  far  enough,  it  secretes  its 
own  remedy,  —  popular  discontent,  a  reform  move 
ment,  a  peaceful  revolution.  The  way  is  open. 
Speech  is  free.  There  is  no  need  of  pikes  and 
barricades  and  firebrands.  There  is  a  more  power 
ful  weapon  in  every  man's  hand.  Persuade  him  to 
use  it  for  his  own  good.  Combine  the  forces  of 
intelligence  and  conscience,  and  the  city  which  sees 
its  own  interest  will  find  out  how  to  secure  it. 

83 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AMERICA 


B*  tbc  trouble,  wfth 

::  ?r:c^;:  -Jiif  2,-ii:c—j:c    ::  >;•:„::   :r.  f 
of  better  faces.    It  is  a  trodbfe  whkh 
often  led  deeply,  and  of  which  they 

junpbm  bitterly.    Bat  after  all,  if  you 
get  down  to  the  bottom  of  their  •inihj  font 
find  dun  they  would  rather  take  their  trouble  in 
inif   : : ~~.~.  '. " .."-".   _~    IT"'"   ;'_if.r       -  ifv   ::;.  '.:.:.'  '.:.:~~ 
*     *''      "       BBME  ^KDOIC9QBBC^  lUEKM.    OUBCH        -I"-     -  "  -     -  -  -  -"  2* 

that  people  most  want  good  gopexmnent  before  they 
can  get  k-    And  far  the  sdbe  of  this  tibej  are  mitt- 

_r c     -V'"~    "...~^       nr.f     j^r. i    ;j^j.~  ~    .i  — _nz   !__if_  «"j._5 
to  gwe  that  cftenal  TigOanoc  winch  is  the  pdoe  of 


It  B  not,  however,  of  democracy  as  it  has 
in  poitkal  forms  fat  I  would  speak; 

~~  i.  f  HL  roTM  r  "•"  .1.5  2  5T_r~. '  2.  57H~_i~iifi 
ing  la  the  sool  of  die  Amencan  PBOpfcu  Toe  root 
of  it  is  the  feeing  dnl  die  openings  of  lie,  so 
far  as  they  are  under  human  control,  ought  to  be 
eqoal  far  *^  The  world  may  be  Eke  a  %fpi*  of 
nizj  ?::-?:?  >:~e  ^.::.f.:  >:~f  '.:'"  r_:  iifrf 

ny  shafl  be  unbuied.    Eror  man  shafl 

••  7__r5_f  ~-'. c  ni7T-n*tr?    *.~  '  Trr"f*r"f*i  in  "~i?  fz."r"- 
zifi:   ::  ^_5  _:er:      mi  ^r:_rf  _z  :ie  r-rf.-fSr  :n   :: 


FAIR  PLAY  AND  DEMOCRACY 

his  life,  so  far  as  he  does  not  interfere  with  others  in 
the  same  rights. 

This  does  not  mean  that  all  shall  be  treated  alike, 
shall  receive  the  same  rewards.  For,  as  Plato  says, 
"The  essence  of  equality  fies  in  treating  unequal 
tilings  unequally/'  But  it  means  what  the  first 
Napoleon  called  la  carriere  ouverte  aux  talents. 
Nay,  it  means  a  little  more  than  that.  For  it  goes 
beyond  the  talents,  to  the  mediocrities,  to  the  in 
efficiencies,  and  takes  them  into  its  just  and  humane 
and  unprejudiced  account.  It  means  what  Prui 
dent  Roosevelt  meant  when  he  spoke  of  "the  square 
deal  for  everybody"  The  soul  of  the  Amrriran 
people  answered  to  his  words  because  he  had  ex 
pressed  one  of  their  dominant  ideals. 

Yon  must  not  imaging  that  I  propose  to  claim 
that  this  ideal  has  hccn  perfectly  realized  in  Amrrira. 
It  is  not  true  that  every  man  gets  justice  there.  It  is 
not  true  that  none  are  oppressed  or  unfairly  treated. 
It  is  not  true  that  every  one  finds  the  particular 
stall  way  which  he  wishes  to  climb  open  and  unen 
cumbered.  But  where  is  any  ideal  perfectly  realized 
except  in  hcawn  and  in  the  writings  of  fr««?l»  nov 
elists  ?  It  is  of  the  real  desire  and  purpose,  the  good 
intention,  the  aim  and  t^rcpgr  of  the  American  peo 
ple,  that  I  speak.  And  here  I  say,  without  doubt, 
the  spirit  of  fair  play  has  been,  and  still  is,  one 
of  the  creative  and  controlling  factors  of  Amnira. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

If  you  should  ask  me  for  the  best  evidence  to 
support  this  statement,  I  should  at  once  name  the 
Constitution  and  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States.  Here  is  an  original  institution,  created  and 
established  by  the  people  at  the  very  birth  of  the 
nation,  peculiar  in  its  character  and  functions,  I 
believe,  to  America,  and  embodying  in  visible  form 
the  spirit  of  fair  play. 

The  laws  under  which  a  man  must  live  in  America 
are  of  three  kinds.  There  is  first  the  common  law, 
which  prevails  in  all  the  States  except  Louisiana, 
which  is  still  under  the  Napoleonic  Code.  The 
common  law,  inherited  from  England,  is  contained 
in  the  mass  of  decisions  and  precedents  handed 
down  by  the  duly  established  courts  from  generation 
to  generation.  It  is  supposed  to  cover  the  principles 
which  are  likely  to  arise  in  almost  all  cases.  But 
when  a  new  principle  appears,  the  judge  must  decide 
it  according  to  his  conscience  and  create  the  legal 
right. 

The  second  source  of  law  is  found  in  statutes 
of  the  United  States  enacted  by  Congress,  in  the 
constitutions  of  the  different  States,  and  in  the 
statutes  enacted  by  the  State  legislatures.  Here  we 
have  definite  rules  and  regulations,  not  arising  out 
of  differences  or  disputes  between  individuals,  but 
framed  on  general  principles,  and  intended  to  cover 
all  cases  that  may  arise  under  them. 

86 


r 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

The  third  source  of  law  is  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,  which  is  supreme  and  sovereign  over 
all  other  laws.  It  is  the  enactment  of  the  whole  peo 
ple.  Congress  did  not  create  it.  It  created  Congress. 
No  legislation,  whether  of  a  State  or  of  the  nation, 
can  impair  or  contravene  its  authority.  It  can  only 
be  changed  by  the  same  power  which  made  it,  — 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  expressing  their 
will,  first  through  a  two-thirds  majority  of  the  na 
tional  House  and  Senate,  and  then  directly  through 
the  vote  of  three-fourths  of  the  forty-six  States. 

Any  statute  which  conflicts  with  the  Constitution 
is  invalid.  Any  State  constitution  which  fails  to 
conform  to  it  is,  in  so  far  forth,  non-existent.  Any 
judicial  decision  which  contradicts  it  is  of  no  binding 
force.  Over  all  the  complexities  of  legislation  and 
the  perplexities  of  politics  in  America  stands  this  law 
above  the  laws,  this  ultimate  guarantee  of  fair  play. 

The  thing  to  be  noted  in  the  Constitution  is 
this:  brief  as  it  is  for  the  creative  document  of  a 
great  nation,  it  contains  an  ample  Bill  of  Rights, 
protecting  every  man  alike.  The  Constitution,  as 
originally  framed  in  1787,  had  omitted  to  do  this 
fully,  though  it  prohibited  the  States  from  passing 
any  law  to  impair  the  validity  of  contracts,  from 
suspending  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  in  time  of 
peace,  and  from  other  things  contrary  to  the  spirit 
of  fair  play.  But  it  was  evident  at  once  that  the 

87 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Constitution  would  not  be  ratified  by  a  sufficient 
number  of  the  States  unless  it  went  much  farther. 
Massachusetts  voiced  the  Spirit  of  America  in  pre 
senting  a  series  of  amendments  covering  the  ground 
of  equal  dealing  with  all  men  in  the  matters  most 
essential  to  individual  freedom  and  security.  In 
1790  these  amendments,  numbered  from  I  to  X, 
were  passed  by  Congress,  and  in  1791  they  became 
part  of  the  Constitution. 

What  do  they  do?  They  guarantee  religious 
liberty,  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  and  the 
right  of  popular  assembly  and  petition.  They  pro 
tect  every  man,  in  time  of  peace,  from  criminal  in 
dictment  except  by  a  grand  jury,  from  secret  trial, 
from  compulsion  to  testify  against  himself,  from 
being  tried  again  for  an  offence  of  which  he  has 
been  once  acquitted,  and  from  the  requisition  of 
excessive  bail  and  the  infliction  of  cruel  or  unusual 
punishments.  They  guarantee  to  him  the  right  to 
be  tried  by  an  impartial  jury  of  his  peers  and  neigh 
bours  in  criminal  cases  and  in  all  suits  under  .com 
mon  law  when  the  amount  in  controversy  exceeds 
twenty  dollars  in  value.  They  protect  his  house 
from  search  except  under  legal  and  specific  warrant, 
and  his  property  from  appropriation  for  public  use 
without  just  compensation.  They  assure  him  that 
he  shall  not  be  deprived  of  life,  liberty,  or  property 
without  due  process  of  law.  I 

88     -* 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

The  remarkable  thing  about  these  provisions  for 
fair  play  is  not  so  much  their  nature  as  the  place 
where  they  are  put.  In  England  there  is  a  Bill  of 
Rights,  embodied  in  various  enactments,  which 
covers  pretty  much  the  same  ground.  But  these, 
as  Mr.  James  Bryce  says,  "are  merely  ordinary 
laws,  which  could  be  repealed  by  Parliament  at  any 
moment  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  it  can  repeal  a 
highway  act  or  lower  the  duty  on  tobacco."  But 
in  America  they  are  placed  upon  a  secure  and  lofty 
foundation,  they  are  lifted  above  the  passing  storms 
of  party  politics.  No  State  can  touch  them.  No 
act  of  Congress  can  touch  them.  They  belong  to 
the  law  above  laws. 

Nor  is  this  all.  A  supreme  tribunal,  coordinate 
with  the  national  executive  and  legislature,  inde 
pendent  and  final  in  its  action,  is  created  by  the 
Constitution  itself  to  interpret  and  apply  this  su 
preme  law.  The  nine  judges  who  compose  this 
court  are  chosen  from  the  highest  ranks  of  the  legal 
profession,  appointed  by  the  President,  and  con 
firmed  by  the  Senate.  They  hold  office  for  life. 
Their  court  room  is  in  the  centre  of  the  national 
Capitol,  between  the  wings  appropriated  to  the 
Senate  and  the  House. 

It  is  to  that  quiet  chamber,  so  rich,  so  noble  in 
its  dignity  and  simplicity,  so  free  from  pomp  and 
ostentation,  so  remote  from  turmoil  and  confusion, 

89 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

so  filled  with  the  tranquil  glory  of  intelligence  and 
conscience,  so  eloquent  of  confidence  in  the  power 
of  justice  to  vindicate  itself,  —  it  is  to  that  room 
that  I  would  take  a  foreigner  who  asked  me  why 
I  believe  that  democracy  in  America  has  the 
promise  of  endurance.  Those  nine  men,  in  their 
black  judicial  robes  (the  only  officials  of  the  nation 
who  have  from  the  beginning  worn  a  uniform  of 
office),  are  the  symbols'  of  the  American  conscience 
offering  the  ultimate  guarantee  of  fair  play.  To 
them  every  case  in  law  and  equity  arising  under 
the  Constitution,  treaties  and  laws  of  the  United 
States,  every  case  of  admiralty  and  marine  juris 
diction,  every  case  between  citizens  of  different 
States,  or  between  two  States,  every  case  in  which 
the  United  States  itself  is  a  party,  may  be  brought 
for  final  decision.  For  more  than  a  hundred  years 
this  court  has  discharged  its  high  functions  without 
a  suspicion  of  corruption  or  a  shadow  of  reproach. 

Twenty-one  times  it  has  annulled  the  action  of 
Congress  and  declared  it  ultra  vires.  More  than 
two  hundred  times  it  has  found  that  State  statutes 
were  contrary  to  the  Constitution  and  therefore 
practically  non-existent.  And  these  decisions  are 
not  made  in  the  abstract,  on  theory,  but  in  the  con 
crete,  on  actual  cases  when  the  principle  of  fair 
play  under  the  Constitution  is  at  stake. 

Let  me  illustrate  this.  In  1894  a  law  was  passed 
90 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

by  Congress  taxing  all  incomes  over  a  certain  sum 
at  certain  rates.  This  was,  in  effect,  not  a  tax  based 
proportionally  upon  population,  but  a  special  tax 
upon  a  part  of  the  population.  It  was  also  a  direct 
tax  levied  by  the  national  legislature.  There  was 
no  necessity  of  discussing  the  abstract  question  of 
the  wisdom  or  righteousness  of  such  taxation.  The 
only  question  was  whether  it  was  fair  play  under 
the  Constitution.  A  citizen  of  New  York  refused  to 
pay  the  tax;  the  case  was  brought  to  the  Supreme 
Court  and  argued  by  Mr.  Choate,  the  late  Ameri 
can  Ambassador  to  Great  Britain.  The  court  held 
that  Congress  had  no  power  to  impose  such  a  tax, 
because  the  Constitution  forbids  that  body  to  lay 
any  direct  tax,  "unless  in  proportion  to  the  census." 
By  this  one  decision  the  income-tax  law  became 
null,  as  if  it  had  never  been. 

Again,  a  certain  citizen  had  obtained  from  the 
State  of  Georgia  a  grant  of  land  upon  certain  terms. 
This  grant  was  subsequently  repealed  by  the  State 
by  a  general  statute.  A  case  arose  out  of  the  con 
veyance  of  this  land  by  a  deed  and  covenant,  and 
was  carried  to  the  Supreme  Court.  The  court  held 
that  the  statute  of  the  State  which  took  the  citizen's 
land  away  from  him  was  null,  because  it  "impaired 
the  obligation  of  a  contract,"  which  the  Constitution 
expressly  forbids. 

Again,  in  1890,  Congress  passed  a  measure  com- 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

monly  called  the  Sherman  Anti-Trust  Act,  declar 
ing  "every  contract,  combination  in  the  form  of 
trusts  or  otherwise,  or  conspiracy  in  restraint  of 
trade  or  commerce  among  the  several  States"  to  be 
illegal.  This  was  undoubtedly  intended  to  prevent 
the  merger  of  railroads  and  manufacturing  concerns 
into  gigantic  trusts  with  monopolistic  powers.  The 
American  spirit  has  always  understood  liberty  as 
including  the  right  of  the  citizen  to  be  free  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  his  faculties,  to  live  and  work  where 
he  will,  and  in  so  doing  to  move  freely  from  State 
to  State.  So  far  as  the  trusts  were  combinations  in 
restraint  of  this  right,  the  statute  properly  declared 
them  illegal,  and  the  Supreme  Court  so  interpreted 
and  applied  it.  But  it  soon  became  evident  that 
combinations  of  labour  might  restrain  trade  just  as 
much  as  combinations  of  capital.  A  strike  or  a 
boycott  might  paralyze  an  industry  or  stop  a  rail 
road.  The  Supreme  Court  did  not  hesitate  to 
apply  the  same  rule  to  the  employees  as  to  the  em 
ployers.  It  held  that  a  combination  whose  pro 
fessed  object  is  to  arrest  the  operation  of  railroads 
whose  lines  extend  from  a  great  city  into  adjoining 
States  until  such  roads  accede  to  certain  demands 
made  upon  them,  whether  such  demands  are  in 
themselves  reasonable  or  unreasonable,  just  or  un 
just,  is  certainly  an  unlawful  conspiracy  in  restraint 
of  commerce  among  the  States. 

92 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

Again  and  again  the  Supreme  Court  has  inter 
fered  to  prevent  citizens  of  all  the  States  from  being 
deprived  by  the  action  of  any  State  of  those  liber 
ties  which  belong  to  them  in  common.  Again  and 
again  its  decisions  have  expressed  and  illustrated 
the  fundamental  American  conviction  which  is 
summed  up  in  the  strong  words  of  Justice  Bradley : 
"The  right  to  follow  any  of  the  common  occupations 
of  life  is  an  inalienable  right." 

I  have  not  spoken  of  the  other  federal  courts  and 
of  the  general  machinery  of  justice  in  the  United 
States,  because  there  is  not  time  to  do  so.  If  it  were 
possible  to  characterize  the  general  tendency  in  a 
sentence,  I  would  say  that  it  lays  the  primary  em 
phasis  on  the  protection  of  rights,  and  the  secondary 
emphasis  on  the  punishment  of  offences.  Looking 
at  the  processes  of  justice  from  the  outside,  and 
describing  things  by  their  appearance,  one  might 
say  that  in  many  parts  of  the  continent  of  Europe 
an  accused  man  looks  guilty  till  he  is  proved  inno 
cent  ;  in  America  he  looks  innocent  until  his  guilt  is 
established. 

The  American  tendency  has  its  serious  draw 
backs,  —  legal  delays,  failures  to  convict,  immunity 
of  criminals,  and  so  on.  These  are  unpleasant  and 
dangerous  things.  Yet,  after  all,  when  the  thought 
ful  American  looks  at  his  country  quietly  and 
soberly  he  feels  that  a  fundamental  sense  of  justice 

93 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

prevails  there  not  only  in  the  courts  but  among  the 
people.  The  exceptions  are  glaring,  but  they  are 
still  exceptions.  And  when  he  remembers  the  im 
mense  and  inevitable  perils  of  a  republic,  he  re 
assures  himself  by  considering  the  past  history  and 
the  present  power  of  the  Supreme  Court,  that 
great  bulwark  against  official  encioachment,  legisla 
tive  tyranny,  and  mobocracy,  —  that  grave  and 
majestic  symbol  of  the  spirit  of  fair  play.  A  re 
public  with  such  an  institution  at  the  centre  of  its 
national  conscience  has  at  least  one  instrument  of 
protection  against  the  dangers  which  lurk  in  the 
periphery  of  its  own  passions. 

If  you  should  ask  me  for  a  second  illustration  of 
the  spirit  of  fair  play  in  America,  I  should  name 
religious  liberty  and  the  peaceful  independence  of 
the  churches  within  the  state.  I  do  not  call  it  the 
"Separation  of  Church  and  State,"  because  I  fear 
that  in  France  the  phrase  might  carry  a  false  mean 
ing.  It  might  convey  the  impression  of  a  forcible 
rupture,  or  even  a  feeling  of  hostility,  between  the 
government  and  the  religious  bodies.  Nothing  of 
that  kind  exists  in  America.  The  state  extends  a 
firm  and  friendly  protection  to  the  adherents  of  all 
forms  of  religious  belief  or  unbelief,  defending  all 
alike  in  their  persons,  in  the  possession  of  their 
property,  and  in  their  chosen  method  of  pursuing 

94 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

happiness,  whether  in  this  world  or  in  the  next.  It 
requires  only  that  they  shall  not  practise  as  a  part 
of  their  cult  anything  contrary  to  public  morality, 
such  as  polygamy,  or  physical  cruelty,  or  neglect 
of  children.  Otherwise  they  are  all  free  to  follow 
the  dictates  of  conscience  in  worshipping  or  in  not 
worshipping,  and  in  so  doing  they  are  under  the 
shield  of  government. 

This  is  guaranteed  not  only  by  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States,  but  also  by  the  separate  State 
constitutions,  so  far  as  I  know,  without  exception. 
Moreover,  the  general  confidence  and  good-will  of 
the  state  towards  the  churches  is  shown  in  many 
ways.  Property  used  for  religious  purposes  is  ex 
empted  from  taxation,  —  doubtless  on  the  ground 
that  these  purposes  are  likely  to  promote  good 
citizenship  and  orderly  living.  Religious  marriage 
is  recognized,  but  not  required;  and  the  act  of  a 
minister  of  any  creed  is,  in  this  particular,  as  valid 
and  binding  as  if  he  were  a  magistrate.  But  such 
marriages  must  be  witnessed  and  registered  accord 
ing  to  law,  and  no  church  can  annul  them.  It  is 
the  common  practice  to  open  sessions  of  the  legisla 
ture,  national  and  State,  with  an  act  of  prayer;  but 
participation  in  this  act  is  voluntary.  The  Presi 
dent,  according  to  ancient  custom,  appoints  an 
annual  day  of  national  thanksgiving  in  the  month 
of  November,  and  his  proclamation  to  this  effect  is 

95 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

repeated  by  the  governors  of  the  different  States. 
But  here,  again,  it  is  a  proclamation  of  liberty.  The 
people  are  simply  recommended  to  assemble  in  their 
various  places  of  worship,  and  to  give  thanks  ac 
cording  to  their  conscience  and  faith. 

The  laws  against  blasphemy  and  against  the  dis 
turbance  of  public  worship  which  exist  in  most  of 
the  States  offer  an  equal  protection  to  a  Jewish 
synagogue,  a  Catholic  cathedral,  a  Buddhist  temple, 
a  Protestant  church,  and  a  Quaker  meeting-house; 
and  no  citizen  is  under  any  compulsion  to  enter  any 
one  of  these  buildings,  or  to  pay  a  penny  of  taxation 
for  their  support.  Each  religious  organization  regu 
lates  its  own  affairs  and  controls  its  own  property. 
In  cases  of  dispute  arising  within  a  church  the  civil 
law  has  decided,  again  and  again,  that  the  rule  and 
constitution  of  the  church  itself  shall  prevail. 

But  what  of  the  religious  bodies  which  exist  under 
this  system?  Do  not  imagine  that  they  are  small, 
feeble,  or  insignificant;  that  they  are  content  to  be 
merely  tolerated;  that  they  feel  themselves  in  any 
way  impotent  or  slighted.  They  include  the  large 
majority  of  the  American  people.  Twelve  millions 
are  adherents  of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  ad 
herents  of  the  Protestant  churches  are  estimated  to 
number  between  forty  and  fifty  millions.  But  neither 
as  a  whole,  nor  in  any  of  their  separate  organizations, 
do  the  religious  people  of  America  feel  that  they  are 

96 


FAIR  PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

deprived  of  any  real  rights  or  robbed  of  any  just 
powers. 

It  is  true  that  the  different  churches  are  some 
times  very  jealous  of  one  another.  But  bad  as  that 
may  be  for  them,  from  a  political  point  of  view  it  is 
rather  a  safeguard. 

It  is  true  that  ecclesiastics  sometimes  have 
dreams,  and  perhaps  schemes,  which  look  towards 
the  obtaining  of  special  privileges  or  powers  for 
their  own  organization.  But  that  is  because  eccle 
siastics  are  human  and  fallible.  In  the  main,  you 
may  say  with  confidence  that  there  is  no  party  or 
sect  in  America  that  has  the  slightest  wish  to  see 
church  and  state  united,  or  even  entangled.  The 
American  people  are  content  and  happy  that  reli 
gion  should  be  free  and  independent.  And  this 
contentment  arises  from  three  causes. 

First,  religious  liberty  has  come  naturally,  peace 
fully,  in  a  moderate  and  friendly  temper,  with  con 
sideration  for  the  conscience  and  the  rights  of  all, 
and  at  the  same  time,  if  I  mistake  not,  with  a  gen 
eral  recognition  that  the  essence  of  religion,  personal 
faith  in  a  spiritual  life  and  a  Divine  law,  is  a 
purifying,  strengthening,  elevating  factor  in  human 
society. 

Second,  the  churches  have  prospered  in  freedom; 
they  are  well-to-do,  they  are  active,  they  are  able  to 
erect  fine  edifices,  to  support  their  clergy,  to  carry 
H  97 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

on  benevolent  and  missionary  enterprises  on  an  im 
mense  scale,  costing  many  millions  of  dollars  every 
year.  The  voluntary  system  has  its  great  disad 
vantages  and  drawbacks,  —  its  perils,  even.  But 
upon  the  whole,  religious  people  in  America,  Catho 
lics,  Protestants,  and  Jews  alike,  feel  that  these  are 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  devotion  which 
is  begotten  and  nourished  by  the  very  act  of  making 
gifts  and  sacrifices,  and  by  the  sober  strength  which 
comes  into  a  man's  faith  when  he  is  called  to  sup 
port  it  by  his  works. 

Men  value  what  they  pay  for.  But  this  is  true 
only  when  they  pay  for  what  they  really  want. 

Third,  and  chiefly,  religious  liberty  commends 
itself  to  the  Americans  because  they  feel  that  it  is 
the  very  highest  kind  of  fair  play.  That  a  man 
should  have  freedom  in  the  affairs  of  his  soul  is 
certainly  most  vital  to  his  pursuit  of  happiness.  The 
noble  example  of  tolerance  which  was  set  to  the 
American  colonies  by  the  Quakers  of  Pennsylvania, 
the  Baptists  of  Rhode  Island,  and  the  Catholics  of 
Maryland,  prevailed  slowly  but  surely  over  the 
opposite  example  of  the  Puritans  of  Massachusetts 
and  the  Anglicans  of  Virginia.  The  saying  of 
William  of  Orange,  "Conscience  is  God's  province," 
has  become  one  of  the  watchwords  of  America. 

In  a  country  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  pre 
dominantly  Christian  and  Protestant,  there  is  neither 

98 


FAIR  PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

establishment  nor  proscription  of  any  form  of  faith. 
In  the  President's  cabinet  (1908)  I  personally  know 
a  Jew,  a  Catholic,  a  Presbyterian,  an  Episcopalian, 
and  a  Methodist.  The  President  himself  is  a  mem 
ber  of  one  of  the  smallest  denominations  in  the 
country,  the  Dutch  Reformed. 

Nor  is  unfaith  penalized  or  persecuted.  A  re 
cent  writer  on  America  has  said  that  "an  avowed 
atheist  is  not  received  in  any  social  circles  above 
that  of  the  ordinary  saloon."  Well,  an  atheist 
avowed  in  definite  and  unmistakable  terms,  a  man 
who  positively  affirms  that  there  is  no  God,  is  a  very 
difficult  person  to  find  in  this  world  of  mystery. 
But  a  positivist,  a  free-thinker,  a  Voltairean,  a  scep 
tic,  an  agnostic,  an  antisupernaturalist  of  any  kind, 
has  the  same  rights  and  privileges  as  any  other  man. 
In  America,  if  his  life  is  clean  and  his  manners  decent, 
he  goes  everywhere.  You  may  meet  him  in  the  best 
clubs,  and  in  social  circles  which  are  at  the  farthest 
remove  from  the  saloon.  This  is  not  because  people 
like  his  opinions,  but  because  they  feel  he  is  entitled 
to  form  them  for  himself.  They  take  it  for  granted 
that  it  is  as  impossible  to  correct  unbelief  by  earthly 
penalties  as  it  is  to  deprive  faith  of  its  heavenly 
rewards. 

I  do  not  say  that  this  is  the  right  attitude,  the 
only  reasonable  attitude.  I  do  not  wish  to  persuade 
any  one  to  adopt  it.  I  say  only  that  it  is  the  char- 

99 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

acteristic  attitude  of  the  Americans,  and  that  sin 
cerely  religious  people  hold  it,  in  the  Catholic  Church 
and  in  the  Protestant  Church.  It  may  be  that  the 
spirit  of  fair  play  has  blinded  them.  It  may  be  that 
it  has  enlightened  them.  Be  that  as  it  may,  they 
have  passed  beyond  the  point  of  demanding  free 
dom  of  conscience  for  themselves  to  that  of  conced 
ing  it  to  others.  And  in  this  they  think  that  they 
are  acting  in  accordance  with  the  Divine  will  and 
example. 

An  anecdote  will  illustrate  this  attitude  better 
than  many  paragraphs  of  explanation.  In  the  older 
American  colleges,  which  were  independent  of  state 
control,  the  original  course  of  study  was  uniform 
and  prescribed,  and  chapel  services  were  held  which 
the  students  were  required  to  attend.  Elective 
studies  came  in.  The  oldest  of  the  universities 
made  attendance  at  chapel  voluntary.  "I  under 
stand,"  said  a  critic  to  the  president  of  the  univer 
sity,  "that  you  have  made  God  an  elective  in  your 
college."  The  President  thought  for  a  moment. 
"No,"  said  he,  "we  understand  that  He  has  made 
Himself  elective  everywhere." 

There    are    certain    singular    limitations    in    the 

spirit  of  fair  play  in  America  of  which  I  must  say  a 

word  in  order  to  play  fair.     Chief  among  these  is 

the  way  in  which  the  people  of  the  colonies  and  of 

100 


FAIR  PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY. 

the  United  States  dealt .  for ,  many,  .years,  with  the 
races  which  have  not  a  white  sk.in>.  '•'       ;  'i :  '•]  i  / 

The  American  Indians,  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  undoubtedly  sinned  as  much 
as  they  were  sinned  against.  They  were  treacher 
ous,  implacable,  unspeakably  cruel,  horribly  blood 
thirsty.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  colonists  regarded 
them  as  devils.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  feeling  of 
mistrust  and  resentment  persisted  from  one  genera 
tion  to  another.  But  the  strange  thing  is  that  when 
the  Indians  were  subjugated  and  for  the  most  part 
pacified,  America  still  treated  them  from  a  hostile 
and  alien  point  of  view,  denied  them  the  rights  of 
citizenship,  took  their  property  from  them,  and 
made  it  very  difficult  for  them  to  pursue  happiness 
in  any  reasonable  form.  For  many  years  this  treat 
ment  continued.  It  was  so  glaring  that  a  book 
was  written  which  described  the  Indian  policy  of 
the  United  States,  not  altogether  unjustly,  as  A 
Century  of  Dishonor.  To-day  all  this  is  changed. 
The  scattered  and  diminished  remnants  of  the  red 
men  are  admitted  to  citizenship  if  they  wish  it,  and 
protected  in  their  rights,  and  private  benevolence 
vies  with  government  in  seeking  to  better  their 
condition. 

The  African  race,  introduced  into  America  for 
industrial  reasons,  multiplied  more  rapidly  there 
than  in  its  native  home,  and  soon  became  a  large 

1 01 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

factor  in  the  population.  But  it  was  regarded  and 
tieated  fiorn  a  point  of  view  totally  different  from 
that  which  controlled  the  treatment  of  the  white 
factors.  It  did  not  share  in  the  rights  enumerated 
in  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  It  was  an 
object  of  commerce,  a  source  of  wealth,  a  necessity 
of  agriculture.  The  system  of  domestic  slavery 
held  practically  all  of  the  negroes  in  bondage  (in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Northern  States  abandoned 
it,  and  many  of  the  best  men  in  the  South  disliked  it 
and  protested  against  it)  until  the  third  quarter  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  It  was  approved,  or  at 
least  tolerated,  by  the  majority  of  the  people  until 
the  Civil  War  did  away  with  it.  It  has  left  as  a 
legacy  of  retribution  the  most  difficult  and  danger 
ous  problem  of  America,  —  perhaps  the  greatest  and 
most  perplexing  problem  that  any  nation  has  ever 
had  to  face. 

Nine  millions  of  negroes,  largely  ignorant  and 
naturally  ill-fitted  for  self-government,  are  domiciled 
in  the  midst  of  a  white  population  which  in  some 
sections  of  the  South  they  outnumber.  How  to  rule, 
protect,  and  educate  this  body  of  coloured  people; 
how  to  secure  them  in  their  civil  rights  without  ad 
mitting  them  to  a  racial  mixture  —  that  is  the 
problem. 

The  Oriental  races,  recently  coming  to  America 
in  increasing  numbers,  receive  from  the  people  a 

102 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

welcome  which  cannot  be  described  as  cordial. 
The  exclusion  of  the  Chinese  from  citizenship,  and 
in  some  States  from  immigration,  is  but  a  small 
symptom  of  the  general  situation.  If  any  consider 
able  number  of  Burmese  or  East  Indians  or  Japanese 
should  come,  the  situation  would  be  the  same,  and 
it  would  be  intensified  with  the  increase  of  the  num 
bers.  They  would  not  find  the  Americans  inclined 
to  make  an  open  career  for  the  Oriental  talents. 

Understand,  I  am  not  now  condemning  this  state 
of  affairs,  nor  am  I  defending  it.  That  is  not  my 
business.  I  am  simply  trying  to  describe  it.  How 
is  it  to  be  reconciled  with  the  spirit  of  fair  play?  I 
do  not  know.  Perhaps  reconciliation  is  impossible. 
But  a  partial  understanding  of  the  facts  is  possible, 
if  you  take  into  account  the  doctrine  of  inferior  races. 

This  doctrine  is  not  held  or  defended  by  all  Ameri 
cans.  Some  on  religious  grounds,  some  on  philo 
sophic  grounds,  would  deny  it.  But  on  the  mass 
of  the  people  it  has  a  firm,  though  in  part  an  un 
recognized,  hold.  They  believe  —  or  perhaps  feel 
would  be  a  better  word  —  that  the  white  race  has 
an  innate  superiority  to  the  coloured  races.  From 
this  doctrine  they  have  proceeded  to  draw  conclu 
sions,  and  curiously  enough  they  have  put  them  in 
the  form  of  fair  play.  The  Indians  were  not  to  be 
admitted  to  citizenship  because  they  were  the  wards 
of  the  nation.  The  negroes  were  better  off  under 
103 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

slavery  because  they  were  like  children,  needing 
control  and  protection.  They  must  still  be  kept  in 
social  dependence  and  tutelage  because  they  will  be 
safer  and  happier  so.  The  Orientals  are  not  fit 
for  a  share  in  American  citizenship,  and  they  shall 
not  be  let  in  because  they  will  simply  give  us  another 
inferior  race  to  be  taken  care  of. 

I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  the  philosophical 
consistency  of  such  arguments.  It  is  difficult  to 
imagine  what  place  Rousseau  would  have  found  for 
them  in  his  doctrine  of  the  state  of  nature  and  the 
rights  of  man. 

The  truth  is  that  the  Spirit  of  America  has  never 
been  profoundly  impressed  with  the  idea  of  philo 
sophical  consistency.  The  Republic  finds  herself 
face  to  face  not  with  a  theory  but  with  a  condition. 
It  is  the  immense  mass  of  the  African  population 
that  creates  the  difficulty  for  America.  She  means 
to  give  equal  civil  rights  to  her  nine  million  negroes. 
She  does  not  mean  to  let  the  black  blood  mix  with 
the  white.  Whatever  social  division  may  be  neces 
sary  to  prevent  this  immense  and  formidable  adult 
eration  must  be  maintained  intact. 

Here,  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  supreme  test  which 
the  Spirit  of  America  has  to  meet.  In  a  certain 
sense  the  problem  appears  insoluble  because  it  in 
volves  an  insoluble  race.  But  precisely  here,  in  the 
necessity  of  keeping  the  negro  race  distinct,  and  in 

104 


FAIR   PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

the  duty  of  giving  it  full  opportunity  for  self-develop 
ment,  fair  play  may  find  the  occasion  for  a  most 
notable  and  noble  triumph. 

I  have  left  but  a  moment  in  which  to  speak  of 
the  influence  of  the  kind  of  democracy  which  exists 
in  America  upon  social  conditions.  In  a  word:  it 
has  produced  a  society  of  natural  divisions  without 
closed  partitions,  a  temper  of  independence  which 
shows  itself  either  as  self-assertion  or  self-respect 
according  to  the  quality  of  the  man,  and  an  atmos 
phere  of  large  opportunity  which  promotes  general 
good  humour. 

In  America,  as  elsewhere,  people  who  have  tastes 
and  capacities  in  common  consort  together.  An 
uneducated  man  will  not  find  himself  at  ease  in  the 
habitual  society  of  learned  men  who  talk  principally 
about  books.  A  poor  man  will  not  feel  comfortable 
if  he  attempts  to  keep  company  with  those  whose 
wealth  has  led  them  to  immerse  themselves  in  costly 
amusements.  This  makes  classes,  if  you  like,  ranks, 
if  you  choose  to  call  them  so. 

Moreover  you  will  find  that  certain  occupations 
and  achievements  which  men  have  generally  re 
garded  with  respect  confer  a  kind  of  social  distinction 
in  America.  Men  who  have  become  eminent  in  the 
learned  professions,  or  in  the  army  or  navy,  or  in 
the  higher  sort  of  politics ;  men  who  have  won  suc- 
I05 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

cess  in  literature  or  the  other  fine  arts;  men  who 
have  done  notable  things  of  various  kinds,  —  such 
persons  are  likely  to  know  each  other  better  and  to 
be  better  known  to  the  world  than  if  they  had  done 
nothing.  Furthermore  there  are  families  in  which 
this  kind  of  thing  has  gone  on  from  generation  to 
generation;  and  others  in  which  inherited  wealth, 
moderate  or  great,  has  opened  the  way  to  culture 
and  refinement ;  and  others  in  which  newly  acquired 
wealth  has  been  used  with  generosity  and  dignity; 
and  others  in  which  the  mere  mass  of  money  has 
created  a  noteworthy  establishment.  These  various 
people,  divided  among  themselves  by  their  tastes, 
their  opinions,  and  perhaps  as  much  as  anything 
else  by  their  favourite  recreations,  find  their  way 
into  the  red  book  of  Who's  Who,  into  the  blue  book 
of  the  Social  Register.  Here,  if  you  have  an  imagi 
native  turn  of  mind,  you  may  discover  (and 
denounce,  or  applaud,  or  ridicule)  the  beginnings 
of  an  aristocracy. 

But  if  you  use  that  word,  remember  that  it  is  an 
aristocracy  without  legal  privilege  or  prerogative, 
without  definite  boundaries,  and  without  any  rule 
of  primogeniture.  Therefore  it  seems  to  exist  in  the 
midst  of  democracy  without  serious  friction  or  hos 
tility.  The  typical  American  does  not  feel  injured 
by  the  fact  that  another  man  is  richer,  better  known, 
more  influential  than  himself,  unless  he  believes 
106 


FAIR  PLAY  AND   DEMOCRACY 

that  the  eminence  has  been  unfairly  reached.  He 
respects  those  who  respect  themselves  and  him.  He 
is  ready  to  meet  the  men  who  are  above  him  with 
out  servility,  and  the  men  who  are  beneath  him 
without  patronage. 

True,  he  is  sometimes  a  little  hazy  about  the  pre 
cise  definition  of  "above"  and  "beneath."  His 
feeling  that  all  the  doors  are  open  may  lead  him  to 
act  as  if  he  had  already  passed  through  a  good 
many  of  them.  There  is  at  times  an  "  I-could-if-I- 
would"  air  about  him  which  is  rather  disconcerting. 

There  are  great  differences  among  Americans,  of 
course,  in  regard  to  manners,  ranging  all  the  way 
from  the  most  banal  formality  to  the  most  exquisite 
informality.  But  in  general  you  may  say  that  man 
ners  are  taken  rather  lightly,  too  lightly,  perhaps, 
because  they  are  not  regarded  as  very  real  things. 
Their  value  as  a  means  of  discipline  is  often  for 
gotten.  The  average  American  will  not  blush  very 
deeply  over  a  social  blunder;  he  will  laugh  at  it  as 
a  mistake  in  a  game.  But  to  really  hurt  you,  or  to 
lower  his  own  independence,  would  make  him  feel 
badly  indeed. 

The  free-and-easy  atmosphere  of  the  streets,  the 
shops,  the  hotels,  all  public  places,  always  strikes 
the  foreigner,  and  sometimes  very  uncomfortably. 
The  conductor  on  the  railway  car  will  not  touch  his 
hat  to  you;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  does  not 
107 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

expect  a  fee  from  you.  The  workman  on  the  street 
of  whom  you  ask  a  question  will  answer  you  as  an 
equal,  but  he  will  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know. 
In  the  country  the  tone  of  familiarity  is  even  more 
marked.  If  you  board  for  the  summer  with  a 
Yankee  farmer,  you  can  see  that  he  not  only  thinks 
himself  as  good  as  you  are,  but  that  he  cultivates  a 
slightly  artificial  pity  for  you  as  "city  folks." 

In  American  family  life  there  is  often  an  absence 
of  restraint  and  deference,  in  school  and  college  life 
a  lack  of  discipline  and  subordination,  which  looks 
ugly,  and  probably  is  rather  unwholesome.  One 
sometimes  regrets  in  America  the  want  of  those 
tokens  of  respect  which  are  the  outward  and  visible 
sign  of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  probably  more 
good  feeling,  friendliness,  plain  human  kindness, 
running  around  loose  in  America  than  anywhere 
else  in  the  world.  The  sense  of  the  essential  equality 
of  manhood  takes  away  much  of  the  sting  of  the 
inequalities  of  fortune.  The  knowledge  of  the  open 
door  reduces  the  offence  of  the  stairway.  It  is 
pleasant  and  wholesome  to  live  with  men  who  have 
a  feeling  of  the  dignity  and  worth  of  their  own 
occupations. 

Our  letter-carrier  at  Princeton  never  made  any 
difference  in  his  treatment  of  my  neighbour  Presi 
dent  Cleveland  and  myself.  He  was  equally  kind 

108 


FAIR   PLAY   AND    DEMOCRACY 

to  both  of  us,  and  I  may  add  equally  cheerful  in 
rendering  little  friendly  services  outside  of  his  strict 
duty.  My  guides  in  the  backwoods  of  Maine  and 
the  Adirondacks  regard  me  as  a  comrade  who  curi 
ously  enough  makes  his  living  by  writing  books,  but 
who  also  shows  that  he  knows  the  real  value  of  life 
by  spending  his  vacation  in  the  forest.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  think  much  more  of  their  own  skill 
with  the  axe  and  paddle  than  of  my  supposed  ability 
with  the  pen.  They  have  not  a  touch  of  subser 
vience  in  their  manner  or  their  talk.  They  do  their 
work  willingly.  They  carry  their  packs,  and  chop 
the  wood,  and  spread  the  tents,  and  make  the  bed 
of  green  boughs.  And  then,  at  night,  around  the 
camp-fire,  they  smoke  their  pipes  with  me,  and  the 
question  is,  Who  can  tell  the  best  story? 


109 


IV 
WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND  WEALTH 


IV 
WILL-POWER,    WORK,    AND    WEALTH 

THE  Spirit  of  America  is  best  known  in  Europe  by 
one  of  its  qualities,  —  energy.  This  is  supposed  to  be 
so  vast,  so  abnormal,  that  it  overwhelms  and  obliter 
ates  all  other  qualities,  and  acts  almost  as  a  blind 
force,  driving  the  whole  nation  along  the  highroad 
of  unremitting  toil  for  the  development  of  physical 
power  and  the  accumulation  of  material  wealth. 

La  vie  intense  —  which  is  the  polite  French 
translation  of  "the  strenuous  life"  —  is  regarded 
as  the  unanimous  choice  of  the  Americans,  who 
are  never  happy  unless  they  are  doing  something, 
and  never  satisfied  until  they  have  made  a  great 
deal  of  money.  The  current  view  in  Europe 
considers  them  as  a  well-meaning  people  en 
slaved  by  their  own  restless  activity,  bound  to  the 
service  of  gigantic  industries,  and  captive  to  the 
adoration  of  a  golden  idol.  But  curiously  enough 
they  are  often  supposed  to  be  unconscious  both  of 
the  slavery  and  of  the  idolatry;  in  weaving  the 
shackles  of  industrious  materialism  they  imagine 
themselves  to  be  free  and  strong;  in  bowing  down 
i  113 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

to  the  Almighty  Dollar  they  ignorantly  worship  an 
unknown  god. 

This  European  view  of  American  energy,  and  its 
inexplicable  nature,  and  its  terrible  results,  seems  to 
have  something  of  the  fairy  tale  about  it.  It  is  like 
the  story  of  a  giant,  dreadful,  but  not  altogether 
convincing.  It  lacks  discrimination.  In  one  point, 
at  least,  it  is  palpably  incorrect.  And  with  that 
point  I  propose  to  begin  a  more  careful,  and  per 
haps  a  more  sane,  consideration  of  the  whole  subject. 

It  is  evidently  not  true  that  America  is  ignorant 
of  the  dangers  that  accompany  her  immense  de 
velopment  of  energy  and  its  application  in  such 
large  measure  to  material  ends.  Only  the  other 
day  I  was  reading  a  book  by  an  American  about 
his  country,  which  paints  the  picture  in  colours  as 
fierce  and  forms  as  flat  as  the  most  modern  of 
French  decadent  painters  would  use. 

The  author  says:  "There  stands  America,  en 
gaged  in  this  superb  struggle  to  dominate  Nature 
and  put  the  elements  into  bondage  to  man.  In 
voluntarily  all  talents  apply  themselves  to  material 
production.  No  wonder  that  men  of  science  no 
longer  study  Nature  for  Nature's  sake;  they  must 
perforce  put  her  powers  into  harness;  no  wonder 
that  professors  no  longer  teach  knowledge  for  the 
sake  of  knowledge;  they  must  make  their  students 
efficient  factors  in  the  industrial  world;  no  wonder 

114 


WILL-POWER,  WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

that  clergymen  no  longer  preach  repentance  for  the 
sake  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  they  must  turn 
churches  into  prosperous  corporations,  multiplying 
communicants  and  distributing  Christmas  presents 
by  the  gross.  Industrial  civilization  has  decreed 
that  statesmanship  shall  consist  of  schemes  to  make 
the  nation  richer,  that  presidents  shall  be  elected 
with  a  view  to  the  stock-market,  that  literature 
shall  keep  close  to  the  life  of  the  average  man,  and 
that  art  shall  become  national  by  means  of  a  pro 
tective  tariff.  .  .  . 

"The  process  of  this  civilization  is  simple:  the 
industrial  habit  of  thought  moulds  the  opinion  of 
the  majority,  which  rolls  along,  abstract  and  imper 
sonal,  gathering  bulk  till  its  giant  figure  is  selected 
as  the  national  conscience.  As  in  an  ecclesiastical 
state  of  society  decrees  of  a  council  become  articles 
of  private  faith,  and  men  die  for  homoousion  or  elec 
tion,  so  in  America  the  opinions  of  the  majority, 
once  pronounced,  become  primary  rules  of  con 
duct.  .  .  .  The  central  ethical  doctrine  of  indus 
trial  thought  is  that  material  production  is  the  chief 
duty  of  man." 

The  author  goes  on  to  show  that  the  acceptance 
of  this  doctrine  has  produced  in  America  "conven 
tional  sentimentality"  in  the  emotional  life,  "spiritual 
feebleness"  in  the  religious  life,  "formlessness"  in 

"5 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

the  social  life,  "self-deception"  in  the  political  life, 
and  a  "slovenly"  intelligence  in  all  matters  outside 
of  business.  "We  accept  sentimentality,"  he  says, 
"because  we  do  not  stop  to  consider  whether  our 
emotional  life  is  worth  an  infusion  of  blood  and 
vigour,  rather  than  because  we  have  deliberately 
decided  that  it  is  not.  We  neglect  religion,  because 
we  cannot  spare  time  to  think  what  religion  means, 
rather  than  because  we  judge  it  only  worth  a  con 
ventional  lip  service.  We  think  poetry  effeminate, 
because  we  do  not  read  it,  rather  than  because  we 
believe  its  effect  injurious.  We  have  been  swept 
off  our  feet  by  the  brilliant  success  of  our  industrial 
civilization;  and,  blinded  by  vanity,  we  enumerate 
the  list  of  our  exports,  we  measure  the  swelling  tide 
of  our  national  prosperity;  but  we  do  not  stop  even 
to  repeat  to  ourselves  the  names  of  other  things." 

This  rather  sweeping  indictment  against  a  whole 
civilization  reminds  me  of  the  way  in  which  one 
of  my  students  once  denned  rhetoric.  "Rhetoric," 
said  this  candid  youth,  "is  the  art  of  using  words 
so  as  to  make  statements  which  are  not  entirely  cor 
rect  look  like  truths  which  nobody  can  deny." 

The  description  of  America  given  by  her  sad 
and  angry  friend  resembles  one  of  those  relentless 
portraits  which  are  made  by  rustic  photographers. 
The  unmitigated  sunlight  does  its  worst  through  an 
unadjusted  lens;  and  the  result  is  a  picture  which 
116 


WILL-POWER,  WORK,  AND   WEALTH 

is  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.  "It  looks  like 
her,"  you  say,  "it  looks  horribly  like  her.  But 
thank  God  I  never  saw  her  look  just  like  that." 

No  one  can  deny  that  the  life  of  America  has 
developed  more  rapidly  and  more  fully  on  the  in 
dustrial  side  than  on  any  other.  No  one  can  deny 
that  the  larger  part,  if  not  the  better  part,  of  her 
energy  and  effort  has  gone  into  the  physical  con 
quest  of  nature  and  the  transformation  of  natural 
resources  into  material  wealth.  No  one  can  deny 
that  this  undue  absorption  in  one  side  of  life  has 
resulted  in  a  certain  meagreness  and  thinness  on 
other  sides.  No  one  can  deny  that  the  immense 
prosperity  of  America,  and  her  extraordinary  success 
in  agriculture,  manufactures,  commerce,  and  finance 
have  produced  a  swollen  sense  of  importance,  which 
makes  the  country  peddler  feel  as  if  he  deserved 
some  credit  for  the  $450,000,000  balance  of  foreign 
trade  in  favour  of  the  United  States  in  1907,  and  the 
barber's  apprentice  congratulate  himself  that  Ameri 
can  wealth  is  reckoned  at  $116,000,000,000,  nearly 
twice  that  of  the  next  richest  country  in  the  world. 
This  feeling  is  one  that  has  its  roots  in  human 
nature.  The  very  cabin-boy  on  a  monstrous  ocean 
steamship  is  proud  of  its  tonnage  and  speed. 

But  that  this  spirit  is  not  universal  nor  exclusive, 
that  there  are  some  Americans  who  are  not  satisfied 
—  who  are  even  rather  bitterly  dissatisfied  —  with 

117 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

$116,000,000,000  as  a  statement  of  national  achieve 
ment,  the  book  from  which  I  have  quoted  may  be 
taken  as  a  proof.  There  are  still  better  proofs  to  be 
found,  I  think,  in  the  earnestly  warning  voices  which 
come  from  press  and  pulpit  against  the  dangers  of 
commercialism,  and  in  the  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  noble  lives  which  are  freely  consecrated  to  ideals 
in  religion,  in  philanthropy,  in  the  service  of  man's 
intellectual  and  moral  needs.  These  services  are 
ill-paid  in  America,  as  indeed  they  are  everywhere, 
but  there  is  no  lack  of  men  and  women  who  are 
ready  and  glad  to  undertake  them. 

I  was  talking  to  a  young  man  and  woman  the  other 
day,  both  thoroughbred  Americans,  who  had  resolved 
to  enter  upon  the  adventure  of  matrimony  together. 
The  question  was  whether  he  should  accept  an 
opening  in  business  with  a  fair  outlook  for  making 
a  fortune,  or  take  a  position  as  teacher  in  a  school 
with  a  possible  chance  at  best  of  earning  a  com 
fortable  living.  They  asked  my  advice.  I  put  the 
alternative  as  clearly  as  I  could.  On  the  one  hand, 
a  lot  of  money  for  doing  work  that  was  perfectly 
honest,  but  not  at  all  congenial.  On  the  other  hand, 
small  pay  in  the  beginning,  and  no  chance  of  ever 
receiving  more  than  a  modest  competence  for  doing 
work  that  was  rather  hard  but  entirely  congenial. 
They  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  "We  shall  get 
more  out  of  life,"  they  said  with  one  accord,  "if 

118 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

our  work  makes  us  happy,  than  if  we  get  big  pay 
for  doing  what  we  do  not  love  to  do."  They  were 
not  exceptional.  They  were  typical  of  the  best 
young  Americans.  The  noteworthy  thing  is  that 
both  of  them  took  for  granted  the  necessity  of  doing 
something  as  long  as  they  lived.  The  notion  of  a 
state  of  idleness,  either  as  a  right  or  as  a  reward, 
never  entered  their  blessed  young  minds. 

In  later  lectures  I  shall  speak  of  some  of  the 
larger  evidences  in  education,  in  social  effort,  and  in 
literature,  which  encourage  the  hope  that  the  emo 
tional  life  of  America  is  not  altogether  a  "conven 
tional  sentimentality,"  nor  her  spiritual  life  a  com 
plete  "  feebleness,"  nor  her  intelligence  entirely 
"  slovenly."  But  just  now  we  have  to  consider  the 
real  reason  and  significance  of  the  greater  strength, 
the  fuller  development  of  the  industrial  life.  Let 
us  try  to  look  at  it  clearly  and  logically.  My  wish 
is  not  to  accuse,  nor  to  defend,  but  first  of  all  to 
understand. 

The  astonishing  industrial  advance  of  the  United 
States,  and  the  predominance  of  this  motive  in  the 
national  life,  come  from  the  third  element  in  the 
spirit  of  America,  will-power,  that  vital  energy  of 
nature  which  makes  an  ideal  of  activity  and  effi 
ciency.  "The  man  who  does  things"  is  the  man 
whom  the  average  American  admires. 

119 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

No  doubt  the  original  conditions  of  the  nation's 
birth  and  growth  were  potent  in  directing  this 
will-power,  in  transforming  this  energy  into  forces 
of  a  practical  and  material  kind.  A  new  land 
offered  the  opportunity,  a  wild  land  presented  the 
necessity,  a  rich  land  held  out  the  reward,  to  men 
who  were  eager  to  do  something.  But  though  the 
outward  circumstances  may  have  moulded  and 
developed  the  energy,  they  did  not  create  it. 

Mexico  and  South  America  were  new  lands,  wild 
lands,  rich  lands.  They  are  not  far  inferior,  if  at  all, 
to  the  United  States  in  soil,  climate,  and  natural  re 
sources.  They  presented  the  same  kind  of  oppor 
tunity,  necessity,  and  reward  to  their  settlers  and  con 
querors.  Yet  they  have  seen  nothing  like  the  same 
industrial  advance.  Why  ?  There  may  be  /  many 
reasons.  But  I  am  sure  that  the  most  important 
reasons  lie  in  the  soul  of  the  people,  and  that  one 
of  them  is  the  lack,  in  the  republics  of  the  South, 
of  that  strong  and  confident  will-power  which  has 
made  the  Americans  a  nation  of  hard  and  quick 
workers. 

This  fondness  for  the  active  life,  this  impulse  to 
"do  things,"  this  sense  of  value  in  the  thing  done, 
does  not  seem  to  be  an  affair  of  recent  growth  in 
America.  It  is  an  ancestral  quality. 

The  men  of  the  Revolution  were  almost  all  of  them 
busy  and  laborious  persons,  whether  they  were  rich  or 

120 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

poor.  Read  the  autobiography  of  Benjamin  Frank 
lin,  and  you  will  find  that  he  was  as  proud  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  good  printer  and  that  he  invented 
a  new  kind  of  stove  as  of  anything  else  in  his  career. 
One  of  his  life  mottoes  under  the  head  of  industry  is : 
"Lose  no  time;  be  always  employed  in  something 
useful;  cut  off  all  unnecessary  actions."  Wash 
ington,  retiring  from  his  second  term  in  the  presi 
dency,  did  not  seek  a  well-earned  ease,  but  turned 
at  once  to  the  active  improvement  of  his  estate. 
He  was  not  only  the  richest  man,  he  was  one  of  the 
best  practical  farmers  in  America.  His  diary  shows 
how  willingly  and  steadily  he  rode  his  daily  rounds, 
cultivated  his  crops,  sought  to  improve  the  methods 
of  agriculture  and  the  condition  and  efficiency  of  his 
work-people.  And  this  primarily  not  because  he 
wished  to  add  to  his  wealth,  —  for  he  was  a  child 
less  man  and  a  person  of  modest  habits,  —  but  be 
cause  he  felt  "  ilfaut  cultiver  son  jar  din" 

After  the  nation  had  defended  its  independence 
and  consolidated  its  union,  its  first  effort  was  to 
develop  and  extend  its  territory.  It  was  little  more 
than  a  string  of  widely  separated  settlements  along 
the  Atlantic  coast.  Some  one  has  called  it  a  coun 
try  without  an  interior.  The  history  of  the  pioneers 
who  pushed  over  the  mountains  of  the  Blue  Ridge 
and  the  Alleghanies,  into  the  forests  of  Tennessee 
and  Kentucky,  into  the  valleys  of  the  Ohio  and  the 
121 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

i,  and  so  on  to  the  broad  rolling  prairies 
of  the  West,  is  not  without  an  interest  to  those  who 
feel  the  essential  romance  of  the  human  will  in  a 
world  of  intractable  things.  The  transformation  of 
the  Indian's  hunting  trail  into  the  highroad,  with 
its  train  of  creaking,  white-topped  wagons,  and  of 
the  highroad  into  the  railway,  with  its  incessant, 
swift-rushing  caravans  of  passengers  and  freight; 
the  growth  of  enormous  cities  like  Chicago  and  St. 
Louis  in  places  that  three  generations  ago  were  a 
habitation  for  wild  geese  and  foxes;  the  harnessing 
of  swift  and  mighty  rivers  to  turn  the  wheels  of 
innumerable  factories;  the  passing  of  the  Great 
American  Desert,  which  once  occupied  the  centre  of 
our  map,  into  the  pasture-ground  of  countless  flocks 
and  herds,  and  the  grain-field  where  the  bread  grows 
for  many  nations,  —  all  this,  happening  in  a  hun 
dred  years,  has  an  air  of  enchantment  about  it. 
What  wonder  that  the  American  people  have  been 
fascinated,  perhaps  even  a  little  intoxicated,  by  the 
effect  of  their  own  will-power? 

In  1850  they  were  comparatively  a  poor  people, 
with  only  $7,000,000,000  of  national  wealth,  less 
than  $308  per  capita.  In  1906  they  had  become 
a  rich  people,  with  $107,000,000,000  of  national 
wealth,  more  than  $1300  per  capita.  In  1850  they 
manufactured  $1,000,000,000  worth  of  goods,  in 
1906  $14,000,000,000  worth.  In  1850  they  im- 
122 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,  AND   WEALTH 

ported  $173,000,000  worth  of  merchandise  and  ex 
ported  $144,000,000  worth.  In  1906  the  figures  had 
changed  to  $1,700,000,000  of  merchandise  exports 
and  $1,200,000,000  of  imports.  That  is  to  say,  in 
one  year  America  sold  to  other  nations  six  dollars' 
worth  per  capita  more  than  she  needed  to  buy  from 
them. 

I  use  these  figures,  not  because  I  find  them  par 
ticularly  interesting  or  philosophically  significant, 
but  because  the  mere  size  of  them  illustrates,  and 
perhaps  explains,  a  point  that  is  noteworthy  in  the 
development  of  will-power  in  the  American  people: 
and  that  is  its  characteristic  spirit  of  magnificence. 
I  take  this  word  for  want  of  a  better,  and  employ  it, 
according  to  its  derivation,  to  signify  the  desire  to 
do  things  on  a  large  scale.  This  is  a  spirit  which  is 
growing  everywhere  in  the  modern  civilized  world. 
Everywhere,  if  I  mistake  not,  quantity  is  taking 
precedence  of  quality  in  the  popular  thought. 
Everywhere  men  are  carried  away  by  the  attraction 
of  huge  enterprises,  immense  combinations,  enor 
mous  results.  One  reason  is  that  Nature  herself 
seems  to  have  put  a  premium  upon  the  mere  mass 
of  things.  In  the  industrial  world  it  appears  as  if 
Napoleon  were  right  in  his ,  observation  that  uGod 
is  on  the  side  of  the  big  battalions."  Another  reason 
is  the  strange,  almost  hypnotic,  effect  that  number 
has  upon  the  human  mind. 

123 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

But  while  the  spirit  of  "the  large  scale"  is  gain 
ing  all  over  the  world,  among  the  Americans  it 
seems  to  be  innate  and  most  characteristic.  Per 
haps  the  very  size  of  their  country  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  this.  The  habit  of  dealing 
with  land  in  terms  of  the  square  mile  and  the  quarter- 
section,  instead  of  in  the  terms  of  the  are  and  the 
hectare;  the  subconscious  effect  of  owning  the  longest 
river  and  the  largest  lakes  in  the  world  may  have 
developed  a  half-humorous,  half-serious  sense  of 
necessity  for  doing  things  magnificently  in  order 
to  keep  in  proportion  with  the  natural  surround 
ings.  A  well-known  American  wit,  who  had  a  slight 
impediment  in  his  speech,  moved  his  residence 
from  Baltimore  to  New  York.  "Do  you  make  as 
many  jokes  here,"  asked  a  friend,  "as  you  used  to 
make  in  Baltimore?"  "M-m-more!  "  he  answered; 
"b-b-bigger  town!" 

To  produce  more  corn  and  cotton  than  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  together,  to  have  a  wheat  •  crop 
which  is  more  than  double  that  of  any  other  country ; 
to  mine  a  million  tons  of  coal  a  year  in  excess  of 
any  rival;  to  double  Germany's  output  of  steel  and 
iron  and  to  treble  Great  Britain's  output,  —  these 
are  things  which  give  the  American  spirit  the  sense 
of  living  up  to  its  opportunities. 

It  likes  to  have  the  tallest  buildings  in  the  world. 
New  York  alone  contains  more  than  twenty-five 
124 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

architectural  eruptions  of  more  than  twenty  stories 
each.  There  is  an  edifice  now  completed  which  is 
909  feet  in  height.  One  is  planned  which  will  be 
looo  feet  tall,  16  feet  taller  than  the  Eiffel  Tower. 
This  new  building  will  not  be  merely  to  gratify  (or 
to  shock)  the  eye  like  the  Parisian  monument  of 
magnificence  in  architecture.  "The  Eiffel  Tower," 
says  the  American,  "is  not  a  real  sky-scraper, 
gratte-ciel ;  it  is  only  a  sky-tickler,  chatouille-ciel ; 
nothing  more  than  a  jeu  d'espril  which  man  has 
played  with  the  law  of  gravitation.  But  our  Ameri 
can  tall  building  will  be  strictly  for  business,  a 
serious  affair,  the  office  of  a  great  life-insurance 
company."  There  is  a  single  American  factory 
which  makes  1500  railway  locomotives  every  year. 
There  is  a  company  for  the  manufacture  cf  harvest 
ing-machines  in  Chicago  whose  plant  covers  140 
acres,  whose  employees  number  24,000,  and  whose 
products  go  all  over  the  world. 

Undoubtedly  it  was  the  desire  to  promote  indus 
trial  development  that  led  to  the  adoption  of  the 
protective  tariff  as  an  American  policy.  The  people 
wanted  to  do  things,  to  do  all  sorts  of  things,  and  to 
do  them  on  a  large  scale.  They  were  not  satisfied 
to  be  merely  farmers,  or  miners,  or  fishermen,  or 
sailors,  or  lumbermen.  They  wished  to  exercise 
their  energy  in  all  possible  ways,  and  to  secure  their 

I2S 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

prosperity  by  learning  how  to  do  everything  nec 
essary  for  themselves.  They  began  to  lay  duties 
upon  goods  manufactured  in  Europe  in  order  to 
make  a  better  market  at  home  for  goods  manufac 
tured  in  America.  " Protection  of  infant  industries" 
was  the  idea  that  guided  them.  There  have  been 
occasional  intervals  when  the  other  idea,  that  of 
liberty  for  needy  consumers  to  buy  in  the  cheapest 
market,  has  prevailed,  and  tariffs  have  been  reduced. 
But  in  general  the  effort  has  been  not  only  to  raise 
a  large  part  of  the  national  income  by  duties  on 
imports,  but  also  to  enhance  the  profits  of  native 
industries  by  putting  a  handicap  on  foreign  com 
petition. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  result  has  been 
to  foster  the  weaker  industries  and  make  them 
strong,  and  actually  to  create  some  new  fields  for 
American  energy  to  work  in.  For  example,  in  1891 
there  was  not  a  pound  of  tin-plate  made  in  the 
United  States,  and  1,000,000,000  pounds  a  year  were 
imported.  The  McKinley  tariff  put  on  an  import 
duty  of  70  per  cent.  In  1901  only  a  little  over 
100,000,000  pounds  of  tin-plate  were  imported,  and 
nearly  000,000,000  pounds  were  made  in  America. 
The  same  thing  happened  in  the  manufacture  of 
watches.  A  duty  of  25  per  cent  on  the  foreign 
article  gave  the  native  manufacturer  a  profit,  en 
couraged  the  development  of  better  machinery,  and 
126 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

made  the  American  watch  tick  busily  around  the 
world.  Now  (1908)  the  duty  is  40  per  cent  ad 
valorem. 

No  one  in  the  United  States  would  deny  these 
facts.  No  one,  outside  of  academic  circles,  would 
call  himself  an  absolute,  unmitigated,  and  imme 
diate  free-trader.  But  a  great  many  people,  prob 
ably  the  majority  of  the  Democratic  party,  and  a 
considerable  number  in  the  Republican  party,  say 
to-day  that  many  of  the  protective  features  of  the 
tariff  have  largely  accomplished  their  purpose  and 
gone  beyond  it;  that  they  have  not  only  nourished 
weak  industries,  but  have  also  overstimulated  strong 
ones;  that  their  continuance  creates  special  privi 
leges  in  the  commercial  world,  raises  the  cost  of  the 
.necessities  of  life  to  the  poor  man,  tends  to  the  pro 
motion  of  gigantic  trusts  and  monopolies,  and  en 
courages  overproduction,  with  all  its  attendant  evils 
enhanced  by  an  artificially  sustained  market. 

They  ask  why  a  ton  of  American  steel  rail  should 
cost  twenty-six  or  twenty-seven  dollars  in  the  country 
where  it  is  made,  and  only  twenty  dollars  in  Europe. 
They  inquire  why  a  citizen  of  Chicago  or  St.  Louis 
has  to  pay  more  for  an  American  sewing-machine 
or  clock  than  a  citizen  of  Stockholm  or  Copenhagen 
pays  for  the  same  article.  They  say  that  a  heavy 
burden  has  been  laid  upon  the  common  people  by  a 
system  of  indirect  taxation,  adopted  for  a  special 

127 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

purpose,  and  maintained  long  after  that  purpose 
has  been  fulfilled.  They  claim  that  for  every  dollar 
which  this  system  yields  to  the  national  revenue  it 
adds  four  or  five  dollars  to  the  profits  of  the  trusts 
and  corporations.  If  they  are  cautious  by  tempera 
ment,  they  say  that  they  are  in  favour  of  moderate 
tariff  revision.  If  they  are  bold,  they  announce  their 
adherence  to  the  doctrine  of  "tariff  for  revenue 
only." 

The  extent  to  which  these  views  have  gained 
ground  among  the  American  people  may  be  seen  in 
the  platforms  of  both  political  parties  in  the  presi 
dential  contest  of  1908.  Both  declare  in  favour  of  a 
reduction  in  the  tariff.  The  Republicans  are  for 
continued  protective  duties,  with  revision  of  the 
schedules  and  the  adoption  of  maximum  and  mini 
mum  rates,  to  be  used  in  obtaining  advantages  from 
other  nations.  The  Democrats  are  for  placing  prod 
ucts  which  are  controlled  by  trusts  on  the  free  list; 
for  lowering  the  duty  upon  all  the  necessaries  of 
life  at  once;  and  for  a  gradual  reduction  of  the 
schedules  to  a  revenue  basis.  The  Democrats  are 
a  shade  more  radical  than  the  Republicans.  But 
both  sides  are  a  little  reserved,  a  little  afraid  to 
declare  themselves  frankly  and  unequivocally,  a 
good  deal  inclined  to  make  their  first  appeal  to  the 
American  passion  for  industrial  activity  and  pros 
perity. 

128 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

Personally  I  should  like  to  see  this  reserve  vanish. 
I  should  like  to  see  an  out-and-out  campaign  on  the 
protection  which  our  industries  need  compared  with 
that  which  they  want  and  get.  It  would  clear  the 
air.  It  would  be  a  campaign  of  education.  I 
remember  what  the  greatest  iron-master  of  America 
—  Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  —  said  to  me  iii  1893 
when  I  was  travelling  with  him  in  Egypt.  It  was 
in  the  second  term  of  Cleveland's  administration, 
when  the  prospect  of  tariff  reduction  was  imminent. 
I  asked  him  if  he  was  not  afraid  that  the  duty  on 
steel  would  be  reduced  to  a  point  that  would  ruin 
his  business.  "Not  a  bit,"  he  answered,  "and  I 
have  told  the  President  so.  The  tariff  was  made 
for  the  protection  of  infant  industries.  But  the  steel 
business  of  America  is  not  an  infant.  It  is  a  giant. 
It  can  take  care  of  itself."  Since  that  time  the 
United  States  Steel  Corporation  has  been  formed, 
with  a  capitalization  of  about  fifteen  hundred  million 
dollars  of  bonds  and  stock,  and  the  import  duty  on 
manufactured  iron  and  steel  is  45  per  cent  ad  valorem. 

Another  effect  of  the  direction  of  American 
energy  to  industrial  affairs  has  been  important  not 
only  to  the  United  States  but  to  all  the  nations  of 
the  world.  I  mean  the  powerful  stimulus  which  it 
has  given  to  invention.  People  with  restless  minds 
and  a  strong  turn  for  business  are  always  on  the 
K  129 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

lookout  for  new  things  to  do  and  new  ways  of 
doing  them.  The  natural  world  seems  to  them  like 
a  treasure-house  with  locked  doors  which  it  is  their 
duty  and  privilege  to  unlock.  No  sooner  is  a  nevtf 
force  discovered  than  they  want  to  slip  a  collar 
over  it  and  put  it  to  work.  No  sooner  is  a  new 
machine  made  than  they  are  anxious  to  improve  it. 
The  same  propensity  makes  a  public  ready  to  try 
new  devices,  and  to  adopt  them  promptly  as  soon 
as  they  prove  useful.  "  Yankee  notions"  is  a  slang 
name  that  was  once  applied  to  all  sorts  of  curious 
and  novel  trifles  in  a  peddler's  stock.  But  to-day 
there  are  a  hundred  Yankee  notions  without  the 
use  of  which  the  world's  work  would  go  on  much 
more  slowly.  The  cotton-gin  takes  the  seeds  from 
seven  thousand  pounds  of  cotton  in  just  the  same 
time  that  a  hand  picker  formerly  needed  to  clean  a 
pound  and  a  half.  An  American  harvesting-machine 
rolls  through  a  wheat-field,  mowing,  threshing,  and 
wiffnowing  the  wrheat,  and  packing  it  in  bags,  faster 
than  a  score  of  hands  could  do  the  work.  The 
steamboat,  the  sewing-machine,  the  electric  tele 
graph,  the  type-writer,  the  telephone,  the  incan 
descent  light,  —  these  are  some  of  the  things  with 
which  American  ingenuity s  and  energy  have  been 
busy  for  the  increase  of  man's  efficiency  and  power 
in  the  world  of  matter.  The  mysterious  force  or 
fluid  which  Franklin  first  drew  quietly  to  the  earth 
130 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

with  his  little  kite  and  his  silken  cord  has  been  put 
to  a  score  of  tasks  which  Franklin  never  dreamed  of. 
And  in  the  problem  of  aerial  navigation,  which  is 
now  so  much  in  the  air  everywhere,  it  looks  as  if 
American  inventors  might  be  the  first  to  reach  a 
practical  solution. 

I  do  not  say  that  this  indicates  greatness.  I  say 
only  that  it  shows  the  presence  in  the  Spirit  of 
America  of  a  highly  developed  will-power,  strong, 
active,  restless,  directed  with  intensity  to  practical 
affairs.  The  American  inventor  is  not  necessarily, 
nor  primarily,  a  man  who  is  out  after  money.  He 
is  hunting  a  different  kind  of  game,  and  one  which 
interests  him  far  more  deeply :  a  triumph  over  na 
ture,  a  conquest  of  time  or  space,  the  training  of 
a  wild  force,  or  the  discovery  of  a  new  one.  He 
likes  money,  of  course.  Most  men  do.  But  the 
thing  that  he  most  loves  is  to  take  a  trick  in  man's 
long  game  with  the  obstinacy  of  matter. 

Edison  is  a  typical  American  in  this.  He  has 
made  money,  to  be  sure ;  but  very  little  in  compari 
son  with  what  other  men  have  made  out  of  his 
inventions.  And  what  he  gains  by  one  experiment 
he  is  always  ready  to  spend  on  another,  to  risk  in  a 
new  adventure.  His  real  reward  lies  in  the  sense  of 
winning  a  little  victory  over  this  secretive  world,  of 
taking  another  step  in  the  subjugation  of  things  to 
the  will  of  man. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

There  is  probably  no  country  where  new  inven 
tions,  labour-saving  devices,  improved  machinery, 
are  as  readily  welcomed  and  as  quickly  taken  up  as 
in  America.  The  farmer  wants  the  newest  plough, 
the  best  reaper  and  mower.  His  wife  must  have  a 
sewing-machine  of  the  latest  model ;  his  daughter  a 
pianola;  his  son  an  electric  runabout  or  a  motor 
cycle.  The  factories  are  always  throwing  out  old 
machinery  and  putting  in  new.  The  junk-heap  is 
enormous.  The  waste  looks  frightful;  and  so  it 
would  be,  if  it  were  not  directed  to  a  purpose  which 
in  the  end  makes  it  a  saving. 

American  cities  are  always  in  a  state  of  transition. 
Good  buildings  are  pulled  down  to  make  room  for 
better  ones.  My  wife  says  that  "  New  York  will  be 
a  delightful  place  to  live  in  when  it  is  finished." 
But  it  will  never  be  finished.  It  is  like  Tennyson's 
description  of  the  mystical  city  of  Camelot :  — 

"  always  building, 
Therefore  never  to  be  built  at  all." 

But  unlike  Camelot,  it  is  not  built  to  music,  — 
rather  to  an  accompaniment  of  various  and  dreadful 
noise. 

Even  natural  catastrophes  which  fall  upon  cities 
in  America  seem  to  be  almost  welcomed  as  an  in 
vitation  to  improve  them.     A  fire  laid  the  business 
portion  of  Baltimore  in  ashes  a  few  years  ago.     Be- 
132 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

fore  the  smoke  had  dispersed,  the  Baltimoreans  were 
saying,  "Now  we  can  have  wider  streets  and  larger 
stores."  An  earthquake  shook  San  Francisco  to 
pieces.  The  people  were  stunned  for  a  little  while. 
Then  they  rubbed  the  dust  out  of  their  eyes,  and 
said,  "This  time  we  shall  know  how  to  build  better." 

The  high  stimulation  of  will-power  in  America 
has  had  the  effect  of  quickening  the  general  pace 
of  life  to  a  rate  that  always  astonishes  and  some 
times  annoys  the  European  visitor.  The  movement 
of  things  and  people  is  rapid,  incessant,  bewildering. 
There  is  a  rushing  tide  of  life  in  the  streets,  a  ner 
vous  tension  in  the  air.  Business  is  transacted  with 
swift  despatch  and  close  attention.  The  preliminary 
compliments  and  courtesies  are  eliminated.  Whether 
you  want  to  buy  a  paper  of  pins,  or  a  thousand  shares 
of  stock,  it  is  done  quickly.  I  remember  that  I 
once  had  to  wait  an  hour  in  the  Ottoman  Bank  at 
Damascus  to  get  a  thousand  francs  on  my  letter  of 
credit.  The  courteous  director  gave  me  coffee  and 
delightful  talk.  In  New  York  the  transaction  would 
not  have  taken  five  minutes,  —  but  there  would 
have  been  no  coffee  nor  conversation. 

Of  course  the  rate  of  speed  varies  considerably  in 
different  parts  of  the  country.  In  the  South  it  is 
much  slower  than  in  the  North  and  the  West.  In 
the  rural  districts  you  will  often  find  the  old-fashioned 

133 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

virtues  of  delay  and  deliberation  carried  to  an  ex* 
asperating  point  of  perfection.  Even  among  the 
American  cities  there  is  a  difference  in  the  rapidity 
of  the  pulse  of  life.  New  York  and  Chicago  have 
the  name  of  the  swiftest  towns.  Philadelphia  has 
a  traditional  reputation  for  a  calm  that  borders  on 
somnolence.  "How  many  children  have  you?" 
some  one  asked  a  Chicagoan.  "Four,"  was  his 
answer;  "three  living,  and  one  in  Philadelphia." 

I  was  reading  only  a  few  day  ago  an  amusing 
description  of  the  impression  which  the  American 
pas-redouble  of  existence  made  upon  an  amiable 
French  observer,  M.  Hugues  Le  Roux,  one  of  the 
lecturers  who  came  to  the  United  States  on  the 
Hyde  foundation.  He  says :  — 

"Everywhere  you  see  the  signs  of  shopkeepers  who  prom 
ise  to  do  a  lot  of  things  for  you  ' 'while  you  wait.'  The  tailor 
will  press  your  coat,  the  hatter  will  block  your  hat,  the  shoe 
maker  will  mend  your  shoe,  —  while  you  wait.  At  the  bar 
ber  shops  the  spectacle  becomes  irresistibly  comic.  The 
American  throws  himself  back  in  an  arm-chair  to  be  shaved, 
while  another  artist  cuts  his  hair;  at  the  same  time  his  two 
feet  are  stretched  out  to  a  bootblack,  and  his  two  hands  are 
given  up  to  a  manicure.  .  .  . 

"If  'Step  lively'  is  the  first  exclamation  that  a  foreigner 
hears  on  leaving  the  steamship, '  Quick '  is  the  second.  Every 
thing  here  is  quick.  In  the  business  quarter  you  read  in 
the  windows  of  the  restaurants,  as  their  only  guarantee  of 
culinary  excellence,  this  alluring  promise :  '  Quick  lunch !'  .  .  . 
"The  American  is  born  'quick';  works  'quick';  eats 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

'quick';  decides  '  quick ';  gets  rich 'quick';  and  dies 'quick.' 
I  will  add  that  he  is  buried  'quick.'  Funerals  cross  the  city 
au  triple  galop." 

So  far  as  it  relates  to  the  appearance  of  things, 
what  the  philosopher  would  call  the  phenomenal 
world,  this  is  a  good,  though  slightly  exaggerated, 
description.  I  have  never  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
see  a  man  getting  a  "  shave  "  and  a  "  hair-cut"  at 
the  same  moment;  and  it  seems  a  little  difficult 
to  understand  precisely  how  these  two  operations 
could  be  performed  simultaneously,  unless  the  man 
wore  a  wig.  But  if  it  can  be  done,  no  doubt  the 
Americans  will  learn  to  have  it  done  that  way.  As 
for  the  hair-cutter,  the  manicure,  and  the  boot 
black,  the  combination  of  their  services  is  already 
an  accomplished  fact,  made  possible  by  the  kind 
ness  of  nature  in  placing  the  head,  the  hands,  and 
the  feet  at  a  convenient  distance  from  one  another. 
Even  the  Parisian  barbers  have  taken  advantage  of 
this  fact.  They  sell  you  a  bottle  of  hair  tonic  at  the 
same  time. 

It  is  true  that  the  American  moves  rapidly.  But 
if  you  should  infer  from  these  surface  indications  that 
he  is  always  in  a  hurry,  you  would  make  a  mistake. 
His  fundamental  philosophy  is  that  you  must  be 
quick  sometimes  if  you  do  not  wish  to  be  hurried 
always.  You  must  condense,  you  must  eliminate, 
you  must  save  time  on  the  little  things  in  order  that 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

you  may  have  more  time  for  the  larger  things.  He 
systematizes  his  correspondence,  the  labour  of  his 
office,  all  the  details  of  his  business,  not  for  the 
sake  of  system,  but  for  the  sake  of  getting  through 
with  his  work. 

Over  his  desk  hangs  a  printed  motto:  "This 
is  my  busy  day."  He  does  not  like  to  arrive  at 
the  railway  station  fifteen  minutes  before  the  de 
parture  of  his  train,  because  he  has  something 
else  that  he  would  rather  do  with  those  fifteen 
minutes.  He  does  not  like  to  spend  an  hour  in  the 
barber-shop,  because  he  wishes  to  get  out  to  his 
country  club  in  good  time  for  a  game  of  golf  and 
a  shower-bath  afterward.  He  likes  to  have  a  full 
life,  in  which  one  thing  connects  with  another 
promptly  and  neatly,  without  unnecessary  intervals. 
His  characteristic  attitude  is  not  that  of  a  man  in  a 
hurry,  but  that  of  a  man  concentrated  on  the  thing 
in  hand  in  order  to  save  time. 

President  Roosevelt  has  described  this  American 
trait  in  his  familiar  phrase,  "the  strenuous  life."  In 
a  man  of  ardent  and  impetuous  temperament  it 
may  seem  at  times  to  have  an  accent  of  overstrain. 
Yet  this  is  doubtless  more  in  appearance  than  in 
reality.  There  is  probably  no  man  in  the  world 
who  has  comfortably  gotten  through  with  more 
work  and  enjoyed  more  play  than  he  has. 

But  evidently  this  American  type  of  life  has  its 
136 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

great  drawbacks  and  disadvantages.  In  eliminat 
ing  the  intervals  it  is  likely  to  lose  some  of  the 
music  of  existence.  In  laying  such  a  heavy  stress 
upon  the  value  of  action  it  is  likely  to  overlook  the 
part  played  by  reflection,  by  meditation,  by  tran 
quil  consideration  in  a  sane  and  well-rounded 
character. 

The  critical  faculty  is  not  that  in  which  Ameri 
cans  excel.  By  this  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  they 
do  not  find  fault.  They  do,  and  often  with  vigour 
and  acerbity.  But  fault-finding  is  not  criticism  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word.  Criticism  is  a  disin 
terested  effort  to  see  things  as  they  really  are,  to 
understand  their  causes,  their  relations,  their  effects. 
In  this  effort  the  French  intelligence  seems  more  at 
home,  more  penetrating,  better  balanced  than  the 
American. 

Minds  of  the  type  of  Sainte  Beuve  or  Brunetiere 
are  not  common,  I  suppose,  even  in  France.  But 
in  America  they  are  still  more  rare.  Clear,  intel 
ligent,  thoroughgoing,  well-balanced  critics  are  not 
much  in  evidence  in  the  United  States ;  first,  be 
cause  the  genius  of  the  country  does  not  tend  to 
produce  them ;  and  second,  because  the  taste  of  the 
people  does  not  incline  to  listen  to  them. 

There  is  a  spirit  in  the  air  which  constantly  cries, 
"Act,  act!" 

"  Let  us  still  be  up  and  doing." 
137 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

The  gentle  voice  of  that  other  spirit  which  whispers, 
"Consider,  that  thou  mayest  be  wise,"  is  often  un 
heard  or  unheeded. 

It  is  plain  that  the  restless  impulse  to  the  active 
life,  coming  from  the  inward  fountain  of  will-power, 
must  make  heavy  drafts  upon  its  source,  and  put  a 
severe  strain  upon  the  channels  by  which  it  is  con 
veyed.  The  nerves  are  worn  and  frayed  by  con 
stant  pressure.  America  is  the  country  of  young 
men,  but  many  of  them  look  old  before  their  time. 
Nervous  exhaustion  is  common.  Neurasthenia,  I 
believe,  is  called  "the  American  disease." 

Yet,  curiously  enough,  it  was  in  France  that  the 
best  treatment  of  this  disease  was  developed,  and 
one  of  the  most  famous  practitioners,  Dr.  Charcot, 
died,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  the  complaint  to  the  cure 
of  which  he  had  given  his  life.  In  spite  of  the  fact 
that  nervous  disorders  are  common  among  Ameri 
cans,  they  do  not  seem  to  lead  to  an  unusual  num 
ber  of  cases  of  mental  wreck.  I  have  been  looking 
into  the  statistics  of  insanity.  The  latest  figures 
that  I  have  been  able  to  find  are  as  follows:  In 
1900  the  United  States  had  106,500  insane  per 
sons  in  a  population  of  76,000,000.  In  1896  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland  had  128,800  in  a  population  of 
37,000,000.  In  1884  France  had  93,900  in  a  popu 
lation  of  40,000,000.  That  would  make  about  328 
insane  persons  in  100,000  for  Great  Britain,  235  in 

138 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

every  100,000  for  France,  143  in  every  100,000  for 
America. 

Nor  does  the  wear  and  tear  of  American  life, 
great  as  it  may  be,  seem  to  kill  people  with  extraor 
dinary  rapidity.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  M.  Le  Roux 
was  led  away  by  the  allurements  of  his  own  style 
when  he  wrote  that  the  American  "dies  quick."  In 
1900  the  annual  death-rate  per  1000  in  Austria  was 
25,  in  Italy  23,  in  Germany  22,  in  France  21,  in 
Belgium  19,  in  Great  Britain  18,  and  in  the  United 
States  17.  In  America  the  average  age  at  death  in 
1890  was  31  years;  in  1900  it  was  35  years.  Other 
things,  such  as  climate,  sanitation,  hygiene,  have  to 
be  taken  into  account  in  reading  these  figures.  But 
after  making  all  allowance  for  these  things,  the 
example  of  America  does  not  indicate  that  an  active, 
busy,  quick-moving  life  is  necessarily  a  short  one. 
On  the  contrary,  hard  work  seems  to  be  wholesome. 
Employed  energy  favours  longevity. 

But  what  about  the  amount  of  pleasure,  of  real 
joy,  of  inward  satisfaction  that  a  man  gets  out  of 
life  ?  Who  can  make  a  general  estimate  in  a  matter 
which  depends  so  much  upon  individual  tempera 
ment?  Certainly  there  are  some  deep  and  quiet 
springs  of  happiness  which  look  as  if  they  were  in 
danger  of  being  choked  and  lost,  or  at  least  which 
do  not  flow  as  fully  and  freely  as  one  could  wish,  in 
America. 


THE    SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

The  tranquil  pleasure  of  the  household  where 
parents  and  children  meet  in  intimate,  well-ordered, 
affectionate  and  graceful  fellowship  —  the  foyer,  as 
the  best  French  people  understand  and  cherish  it 
—  is  not  as  frequent  in  America  as  it  might  be,  nor 
as  it  used  to  be.  There  are  still  many  sweet  and 
refreshing  homes,  to  be  sure.  But  "the  home"  as  a 
national  institution,  the  centre  and  the  source  of 
life,  is  being  crowded  out  a  little.  Children  as  well 
as  parents  grow  too  busy  for  it. 

Human  intercourse,  also,  suffers  from  the  lack 
of  leisure,  and  detachment,  and  delight  in  the  in 
terchange  of  ideas.  The  average  American  is  not 
silent.  He  talks  freely  and  sometimes  well,  but  he 
usually  does  it  with  a  practical  purpose.  Political 
debate  and  business  discussion  are  much  more  in 
his  line  than  general  conversation.  Thus  he  too 
often  misses  what  Montaigne  and  Samuel  Johnson 
both  called  one  of  the  chief  joys  of  life,  —  "a  good 
talk."  I  remember  one  morning,  after  a  certain 
dinner  in  New  York,  an  acquaintance  who  was  one 
of  the  company  met  me,  and  said,  "Do  you  know 
that  we  dined  last  night  with  thirty  millions  of 
dollars?"  "Yes,"  I  said,  "and  we  had  conversa 
tion  to  the  amount  of  about  thirty  cents." 

Popular  recreations  and  amusements,  pleasures 
of  the  simpler  kind  such  as  are  shared  by  masses 
of  people  on  public  holidays,  do  not  seem  to  afford 

140 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

as  much  relaxation  and  refreshment  in  America  as 
they  do  in  Germany  or  France.  Children  do  not 
take  as  much  part  in  them.  There  is  an  air  of 
effort  about  them,  as  if  the  minds  of  the  people 
were  not  quite  free  from  care.  The  Englishman  is 
said  to  take  his  pleasure  sadly.  The  American  is 
apt  to  take  his  strenuously. 

Understand,  in  all  this  I  am  speaking  in  the  most 
general  way,  and  of  impressions  which  can  hardly 
be  denned,  and  which  certainly  cannot  be  mathe 
matically  verified.  I  know  very  well  that  there 
are  many  exceptions  to  what  I  have  been  saying. 
There  are  plenty  of  quiet  rooms  in  America,  club- 
rooms,  college-rooms,  book-rooms,  parlours,  where 
you  will  find  the  best  kind  of  talk.  There  are 
houses  full  of  children  who  are  both  well-bred  and 
happy.  There  are  people  who  know  how  to  play, 
with  a  free  heart,  not  for  the  sake  of  winning,  but 
for  the  pleasure  of  the  game. 

Yet  I  think  it  true  that  a  strong  will-power  di 
rected  chiefly  to  industrial  success  has  had  a  harden 
ing  effect  upon  the  general  tone  of  life.  Unless  you 
really  love  work  for  its  own  sake,  you  will  not  be 
very  happy  in  America.  The  idea  of  a  leisure  class 
is  not  fully  acclimatized  there.  Men  take  it  for 
granted  that  there  must  be  something  useful  for 
them  to  do  in  the  world,  even  though  they  may  not 
have  to  earn  a  living. 

141 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

This  brings  me  to  the  last  point  of  which  I  wish 
to  speak:  the  result  of  will-power  and  work  in  the 
production  of  wealth,  and  the  real  status  of  the 
Almighty  Dollar  in  the  United  States. 

The  enormous  increase  of  wealth  has  been  ac 
companied  by  an  extraordinary  concentration  of  it 
in  forms  which  make  it  more  powerful  and  impres 
sive.  Moody's  Manual  of  Corporation  Statistics 
says  that  there  are  four  hundred  and  forty  large 
industrial,  franchise,  and  transportation  trusts,  of 
an  important  and  active  character,  with  a  floating 
capital  of  over  twenty  billion  dollars.  When  we 
remember  that  each  of  these  corporations  is  in  the 
eye  of  the  law  a  person,  and  is  able  to  act  as  a  person 
in  financial,  industrial,  and  political  affairs,  we  begin 
to  see  the  tremendous  significance  of  the  figures. 

But  we  must  remember  also  that  the  growth  of 
individual  fortunes  and  of  family  estates  has  been 
equally  extraordinary.  Millionnaires  are  no  longer 
counted.  It  is  the  multi-millionnaires  who  hold  the 
centre  of  the  stage.  The  New  York  World  Almanac 
gives  a  list  of  sixteen  of  these  families  of  vast  wealth, 
tracing  the  descent  of  their  children  and  grand 
children  with  scrupulous  care,  as  if  for  an  Almanack 
de  Gotha.  I  suppose  that  another  list  might  be 
made  twice  as  large,  —  three  or  four  times  as  large, 
—  who  knows  how  large,  —  of  people  whose  for 
tune  runs  up  into  the  tens  of  millions. 

142 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

These  men  have  a  vast  power  in  American  finance 
and  industry,  not  only  by  the  personal  possession  of 
money,  but  also  through  the  control  of  the  great 
trusts,  railroads,  banks,  in  which  they  have  invested 
it.  The  names  of  many  of  them  are  familiar  through 
out  the  country.  Their  comings  and  goings,  their 
doings,  opinions,  and  tastes  are  set  forth  in  the 
newspapers.  Their  houses,  their  establishments,  in 
some  cases  are  palatial;  in  other  cases  they  are 
astonishingly  plain  and  modest.  But  however  that 
may  be,  the  men  themselves,  as  a  class,  are  promi 
nent,  they  are  talked  about,  they  hold  the  public 
attention. 

What  is  the  nature  of  this  attention?  Is  it  the 
culminating  rite  in  the  worship  of  the  Almighty 
Dollar?  No;  it  is  an  attention  of  curiosity,  of 
natural  interest,  of  critical  consideration. 

The  dollar  per  se  is  no  more  almighty  in  America 
than  it  is  anywhere  else.  It  has  just  the  same  kind 
of  power  that  the  franc  has  in  France,  that  the 
pound  has  in  England :  the  power  to  buy  the  things 
that  can  be  bought.  There  are  foolish  people  in 
every  country  who  worship  money  for  its  own  sake. 
There  are  ambitious  people  in  every  country  who 
worship  money  because  they  have  an  exaggerated 
idea  of  what  it  can  buy.  But  the  characteristic 
thing  in  the  attitude  of  the  Americans  toward  money 
is  this:  not  that  they  adore  the  dollar,  but  that 

143 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

they  admire  the  energy,  the  will-power,  by  which 
the  dollar  has  been  won. 

They  consider  the  multi-millionnaire  much  less  as 
the  possessor  of  an  enormous  fortune  than  as  the 
successful  leader  of  great  enterprises  in  the  world 
of  affairs,  a  master  of  the  steel  industry,  the  head 
of  a  great  railway  system,  the  developer  of  the  pro 
duction  of  mineral  oil,  the  organizer  of  large  con 
cerns  which  promote  general  prosperity.  He  repre 
sents  to  them  achievement,  force,  courage,  tireless 
will-power. 

A  man  who  is  very  rich  merely  by  inheritance, 
who  has  no  manifest  share  in  the  activities  of  the 
country,  has  quite  a  different  place  in  their  atten 
tion.  They  are  entertained,  or  perhaps  shocked, 
by  his  expenditures,  but  they  regard  him  lightly. 

It  is  the  man  who  does  things,  and  does  them 
largely,  in  whom  they  take  a  serious  interest.  They 
are  inclined,  perhaps,  to  pardon  him  for  things  that 
ought  not  to  be  pardoned,  because  they  feel  so 
strongly  the  fascination  of  his  potent  will,  his  prac 
tical  efficiency. 

It  is  not  the  might  of  the  dollar  that  impresses 
them,  it  is  the  might  of  the  man  who  wins  the  dol 
lar  magnificently  by  the  development  of  American 
industry. 

This,  I  assure  you,  is  the  characteristic  attitude  of 
the  typical  American  toward  wealth.  It  does  not 

144 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

confer  a  social  status  by  itself  in  the  United  States 
any  more  than  it  does  in  England  or  in  France. 
But  it  commands  public  attention  by  its  relation  to 
national  will-power. 

Of  late  there  has  come  into  this  attention  a  new 
note  of  more  searching  inquiry,  of  sharper  criticism, 
in  regard  to  the  use  of  great  wealth. 

Is  it  employed  for  generous  and  noble  ends,  for 
the  building  and  endowment  of  hospitals,  of  public 
museums,  libraries,  and  art  galleries,  for  the  support 
of  schools  and  universities,  for  the  education  of  the 
negro?  Then  the  distributer  is  honoured. 

Is  it  cievoted  even  to  some  less  popular  purpose, 
like  Egyptian  excavations,  or  polar  expeditions,  or 
the  endowment  of  some  favourite  study,  —  some 
object  which  the  mass  of  the  people  do  not  quite 
understand,  but  which  they  vaguely  recognize  as 
having  an  ideal  air?  Then  the  donor  is  respected 
even  by  the  people  who  wonder  why  he  does  that 
particular  thing. 

Is  it  merely  hoarded,  or  used  for  selfish  and  ex 
travagant  luxury?  Then  the  possessor  is  regarded 
with  suspicion,  with  hostility,  or  with  half-humorous 
contempt. 

There  is,  in  fact,  as  much  difference  in  the  com 
parative  standing  of  multi-millionnaires  in  America 
as  there  is  in  the  comparative  standing  of  lawyers 
or  politicians.  Even  in  the  same  family,  when  a 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

great  fortune  is  divided,  the  heir  who  makes  a  good 
and  fine  use  of  the  inheritance  receives  the  tribute 
of  affection  and  praise,  while  the  heir  who  hoards 
it,  or  squanders  it  ignobly,  receives  only  the  tribute 
of  notoriety,  —  which  is  quite  a  different  thing. 
The  power  of  discrimination  has  not  been  altogether 
blinded  by  the  glitter  of  gold.  The  soul  of  the 
people  in  America  accepts  the  law  of  the  moral 
dividend  which  says  Richesse  oblige. 

Here  I  might  stop,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  still 
another  factor  is  coming  into  the  attitude  of  the 
American  people  toward  great  wealth,  concentrated 
wealth.  There  is  a  growing  apprehension  that  the 
will-power  of  one  man  may  be  so  magnified  and 
extended  by  the  enormous  accumulation  of  the 
results  of  his  energy  and  skill  as  to  interfere  with 
the  free  exercise  of  the  will-power  of  other  men. 
There  is  a  feeling  that  great  trusts  carry  within 
themselves  the  temptation  to  industrial  oppression, 
that  the  liberty  of  individual  initiative  may  be 
threatened,  that  the  private  man  may  find  himself 
in  a  kind  of  bondage  to  these  immense  and  potent 
artificial  personalities  created  by  the  law. 

Beyond  a  doubt  this  feeling  is  spreading.  Beyond 
a  doubt  it  will  lead  to  some  peaceful  effort  to  regu 
late  and  control  the  great  corporations  in  their 
methods.  And  if  that  fails,  what  then?  Probably 
an  effort  to  make  the  concentration  of  large  wealth 
146 


WILL-POWER,   WORK,   AND   WEALTH 

in  a  few  hands  more  difficult  if  not  impossible. 
And  if  that  fails,  what  then?  Who  knows?  But  I 
think  it  is  not  likely  to  be  anything  of  the  nature  of 
communism. 

The  ruling  passion  of  America  is  not  equality, 
but  personal  freedom  for  every  man  to  exercise 
his  will-power  under  a  system  of  self-reliance  and 
fair  play. 


COMMON   ORDER  AND   SOCIAL 
COOPERATION 


V 

COMMON  ORDER  AND  SOCIAL  COOPERA 
TION 

IT  is  a  little  strange,  and  yet  it  seems  to  be  true, 
that  for  a  long  time  America  was  better  understood 
by  the  French  than  by  the  English.  This  may  be 
partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the  French  are  more  idealis 
tic  and  more  excitable  than  the  English;  in  both  of 
which  qualities  the  Americans  resemble  them.  It 
may  also  be  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  the  American 
Revolution  was  in  a  certain  sense  a  family  quarrel. 
A  prolonged  conflict  of  wills  between  the  older 
and  the  younger  members  of  the  same  household 
develops  prejudices  which  do  not  easily  subside. 
The  very  closeness  of  the  family  relation  intensifies 
the  misunderstanding.  The  seniors  find  it  extremely 
difficult  to  comprehend  the  motives  of  the  juniors,  or 
to  believe  that  they  are  really  grown  up.  They 
seem  like  naughty  and  self-confident  children.  A 
person  outside  of  the  family  is  much  more  likely  to 
see  matters  in  their  true  light. 

At  all  events,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  when  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  was  calling  the 
Americans  "a  race  of  convicts,  who  ought  to  be 
thankful  for  anything  we  allow  them  short  of  hang- 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

ing,"  and  declaring  that  he  was  willing  to  love  all 
mankind  except  the  Americans,  whom  he  described 
as  "Rascals  —  Robbers  —  Pirates,"  a  Frenchman, 
named  Crevecceur,  who  had  lived  some  twenty  years 
in  New  York,  gave  a  different  portrait  of  the  same 
subject. 

"What  then  is  the  American,"  he  asks,  "this  new 
man?  He  is  either  a  European  or  the  descend 
ant  of  a  European,  hence  that  strange  mixture  of 
blood  which  you  will  find  in  no  other  country. 
I  could  point  out  to  you  a  family  whose  grandfather 
was  an  Englishman,  whose  wife  was  Dutch,  whose 
son  married  a  Frenchwoman,  and  whose  present  four 
sons  have  now  wives  of  four  different  nations.  .  .  . 
Here  individuals  of  all  nations  are  melted  into  a  new 
race  of  men  whose  labours  and  posterity  will  one  day 
cause  great  changes  in  the  world.  Americans  are  the 
western  pilgrims,  who  are  carrying  along  with  them 
that  great  mass  of  arts,  sciences,  vigour,  and  industry 
which  began  long  since  in  the  East.  They  will 
finish  the  great  circle." 

This  is  the  language  of  compliment,  of  course.  It 
is  the  saying  of  a  very  polite  prophet;  and  even  in 
prophecy  one  is  inclined  to  like  pleasant  manners. 
Yet  that  is  not  the  reason  why  it  seems  to  Americans 
to  come  much  nearer  to  the  truth  than  Dr.  John 
son's  remarks,  or  Charles  Dickens 's  A merican  Notes, 
or  Mrs.  Trollope's  Domestic  Manners  of  the  Ameri- 

152 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

cans.  It  is  because  the  Frenchman  has  been  clear 
sighted  enough  to  recognize  that  the  Americans 
started  out  in  life  with  an  inheritance  of  civilized 
ideals,  manners,  aptitudes,  and  powers,  and  that 
these  did  not  all  come  from  one  stock,  but  were 
assembled  from  several  storehouses.  This  fact,  as 
I  have  said  before,  is  fundamental  to  a  right  under 
standing  of  American  character  and  history.  But  it 
is  particularly  important  to  the  subject  of  this 
lecture:  the  sentiment  of  common  order,  and  the 
building-up  of  a  settled,  decent,  sane  life  in  the 
community. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  a  family  of  barbarians, 
either  from  some  native  impulse,  or  under  the  in 
fluence  of  foreign  visitors,  should  begin  to  civilize 
themselves.  Their  course  would  be  slow,  irregular, 
and  often  eccentric.  It  would  alternate  between 
servile  imitation  and  wild  originality.  Sometimes 
it  would  resemble  the  costume  of  that  Australian 
chief  who  arrayed  himself  in  a  stove-pipe  hat  and 
polished  boots  and  was  quite  unconscious  of  the  need 
of  the  intermediate  garments. 

But  suppose  we  take  an  example  of  another  kind, 
—  let  us  say  such  a  family  as  that  which  was 
made  famous  fifty  years  ago  by  a  well-known  work 
of  juvenile  fiction,  The  Swiss  Family  Robinson. 
They  are  shipwrecked  on  a  desert  island.  They 
carry  ashore  with  them  their  tastes,  their  habits, 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

their  ideas  of  what  is  desirable  and  right  and  fitting 
for  decent  people  in  the  common  life.  It  is  because 
their  souls  are  not  naked  that  they  do  not  wish  their 
bodies  to  become  so.  It  is  because  there  is  already 
a  certain  order  and  proportion  in  their  minds  that 
they  organize  their  tasks  and  their  time.  The 
problem  before  them  is  not  to  think  out  a  civilized 
existence,  but  to  realize  one  which  already  exists 
within  them,  and  to  do  this  with  the  materials  which 
they  find  on  their  island,  and  with  the  tools  and  im 
plements  which  they  save  from  their  wrecked  ship. 

Here  you  have  precisely  the  problem  which  con 
fronted  the  Americans.  They  began  housekeeping 
in  a  wild  land,  but  not  as  wild  people.  An  English 
lady  once  asked  Eugene  Field  of  Chicago  whether 
he  knew  anything  about  his  ancestors.  "Not  much, 
madam,"  he  replied,  "but  I  believe  that  mine  lived 
in  trees  when  they  were  first  caught."  This  was  an 
illustration  of  conveying  truth  by  its  opposite. 

The  English  Pilgrims  who  came  from  Norwich 
and  Plymouth,  the  Hollanders  who  came  from  Am 
sterdam  and  Rotterdam,  the  Huguenots  who  came 
from  La  Rochelle  and  Rouen  were  distinctly  not  tree- 
dwellers  nor  troglodytes.  They  were  people  who 
had  the  habits  and  preferences  of  a  well-ordered 
life  in  cities  of  habitation,  where  the  current  of  exist 
ence  was  tranquil  and  regular  except  when  dis 
turbed  by  the  storms  of  war  or  religious  persecution. 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

And  those  who  came  from  the  country  districts, 
from  the  little  villages  of  Normandy  and  Poitou  and 
Languedoc,  of  Lincolnshire  and  Yorkshire  and 
Cornwall,  of  Friesland  and  Utrecht,  of  the  Rhenish 
Palatinate,  and  of  the  north  of  Ireland,  were  not 
soldiers  of  fortune  and  adventurers.  They  were  for 
the  most  part  peaceable  farmers,  whose  ideal  of 
earthly  felicity  was  the  well-filled  barn  and  the  com 
fortable  fireside. 

There  were  people  of  a  different  sort,  of  course, 
among  the  settlers  of  America.  England  sent  a  good 
many  of  her  bankrupts,  incurable  idlers,  masterless 
men,  sons  of  Belial,  across  the  ocean  in  the  early  days. 
Some  writers  say  that  she  sent  as  many  as  50,000  of 
them.  Among  the  immigrants  of  other  nations 
there  were  doubtless  many  "who  left  their  country 
for  their  country's  good."  It  is  silly  to  indulge  in 
illusions  in  regard  to  the  angelic  purity  and  unmixed 
virtue  of  the  original  American  stock. 

But  the  elements  of  turbulence  and  disorder  were 
always,  and  are  still,  in  the  minority.  Whatever 
interruption  they  caused  in  the  development  of  a 
civilized  and  decent  life  was  local  and  transient. 
The  steady  sentiment  of  the  people  who  were  in 
control  was  in  favour  of  common  order  and  social 
cooperation. 

There  is  a  significant  passage  in  the  diary  of  John 
Adams,  written  just  after  the  outbreak  of  mob 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

violence  against  the  loyalists  in  1775.  A  man  had 
stopped  him,  as  he  was  riding  along  the  highway,  to 
congratulate  him  on  the  fury  which  the  patriots  and 
their  congress  had  stirred  up,  and  the  general  dissolu 
tion  of  the  bonds  of  order. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Adams,  what  great  things  have  you  and 
your  colleagues  done  for  us.  We  can  never  be 
grateful  enough  to  you.  There  are  no  courts  of 
justice  now  in  this  province,  and  I  hope  there  will 
never  be  another."  Upon  which  the  indignant 
Adams  comments:  "Is  this  the  object  for  which  I 
have  been  contending,  said  I  to  myself,  for  I  rode 
along  without  any  answer  to  this  wretch;  are  these 
the  sentiments  of  such  people,  and  how  many  of  them 
are  there  in  this  country  ?  Half  the  nation  for  what 
I  know :  for  half  the  nation  are  debtors,  if  not  more ; 
and  these  have  been  in  all  countries  the  sentiments  of 
debtors.  If  the  power  of  the  country  should  get  into 
such  hands,  and  there  is  great  danger  that  it  will,  to 
what  purpose  have  we  sacrificed  our  time,  our  health, 
and  everything  else?" 

But  the  fears  of  the  sturdy  old  Puritan  and  patriot 
were  not  realized.  It  was  not  into  the  hands  of  such 
men  as  he  despised  and  dreaded,  nor  even  into  the 
hands  of  such  men  as  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's  imagi 
nary  American, 

"  Enslaved,  illogical,  elate  .  .  . 
Unkempt,  disreputable,  vast," 

156 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

that  the  power  of  the  country  fell.  It  was  into  the 
hands  of  men  of  a  very  different  type,  intelligent  as 
well  as  independent,  sober  as  well  as  self-reliant, 
inheritors  of  principles  well-matured  and  defined, 
friends  of  liberty  in  all  their  policies,  but  at  the  bottom 
of  their  hearts  lovers  and  seekers  of  tranquil  order. 

I  hear  the  spirit  of  these  men  speaking  in  the 
words  of  him  who  was  the  chosen  leader  of  the  people 
in  peace  and  in  war.  Washington  retired  from  his 
unequalled  public  service  with  the  sincere  declaration 
that  he  wished  for  nothing  better  than  to  partake, 
"in  the  midst  of  my  fellow-citizens,  the  benign  in 
fluence  of  good  laws  under  a  free  government,  the 
ever  favourite  object  of  my  heart,  and  the  happy  re 
ward,  as  I  trust,  of  our  mutual  cares,  labours,  and 
dangers." 

In  these  nobly  simple  and  eloquent  words,  the 
great  American  expresses  clearly  the  fourth  factor  in 
the  making  of  his  country,  —  the  love  of  common 
order.  Here  we  see,  in  the  mild  light  of  unconscious 
self-revealment,  one  of  the  chief  ends  which  the  Spirit 
of  America  desires  and  seeks.  Not  merely  a  self- 
reliant  life,  not  merely  a  life  of  equal  opportunity 
for  all,  not  merely  an  active,  energetic  life  in  which 
the  free-will  of  the  individual  has  full  play,  but  also 
a  life  shared  with  one's  fellow-citizens  under  the 
benign  influence  of  good  laws,  a  life  which  is  con 
trolled  by  principles  of  harmony  and  fruitful  in 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

efforts  cooperant  to  a  common  end,  a  life  rangte, 
ordonnte,  et  solidaire,  —  this  is  the  American  ideal. 

With  what  difficulty  men  worked  out  this  ideal 
in  outward  things  in  the  early  days  we  can  hardly 
imagine.  Those  little  communities,  scattered  along 
the  edge  of  the  wilderness,  had  no  easy  task  to 
establish  and  maintain  physical  orderliness.  Na 
ture  has  her  own  order,  no  dcubt,  but  her  ways  are 
different  from  man's  ways;  she  is  reluctant  to  sub 
mit  to  his  control;  she  does  not  like  to  have  her  hair 
trimmed  and  her  garments  confined ;  she  even  com 
municates  to  man,  in  his  first  struggles  with  her,  a 
little  of  her  own  carelessness,  her  own  apparently  reck 
less  and  wasteful  way  of  doing  things.  "Rough  and 
ready"  is  a  necessary  maxim  of  the  frontier.  It  is 
hard  to  make  a  new  country  or  a  log  cabin  look  neat. 

To  this  day  in  America,  even  in  the  regions  which 
have  been  long  settled,  one  finds  nothing  like  the  ex 
cellent  trimness,  the  precise  and  methodical  arrange 
ment,  of  the  little  farmsteads  of  the  Savoy  among 
which  these  lectures  were  written.  My  memory  often 
went  back,  last  summer,  from  those  tiny  unfenced 
crops  laid  out  like  the  squares  of  a  chess-board  in  the 
valleys,  from  those  rich  pastures  hanging  like  green 
velvet  on  the  steep  hillsides,  from  those  carefully 
tended  forests  of  black  firs,  from  those  granges  with 
the  little  sticks  of  wood  so  neatly  piled  along  their 
sides  under  the  shelter  of  the  overhanging  eaves,  to 

158 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

the  straggling  fences,  the  fallow  fields,  the  unkempt 
meadows,  the  denuded  slopes,  the  shaggy  under 
brush,  the  tumbled  woodpiles,  and  the  general  signs 
of  waste  and  disorder  which  may  be  seen  in  so  many 
farming  districts  of  the  United  States.  I  asked 
myself  how  I  could  venture  to  assure  a  French 
audience,  in  spite  of  such  apparent  evidences  to  the 
contrary,  that  the  love  of  order  was  a  strong  factor 
in  the  American  spirit. 

But  then  I  began  to  remember  that  those  farms 
of  New  England  and  New  York  and  New  Jersey  were 
won  only  a  few  generations  ago  from  a  trackless  and 
savage  wilderness ;  that  the  breadth  of  their  acres 
had  naturally  tempted  the  farmer  to  neglect  the  less 
fruitful  for  the  more  productive ;  that  Nature  herself 
had  put  a  larger  premium  upon  energy  than  upon 
parsimony  in  these  first  efforts  to  utilize  her  re 
sources;  and  that,  after  all,  what  I  wished  to  describe 
and  prove  was  not  an  outward  triumph  of  universal 
orderliness  in  material  things,  but  an  inward  desire 
of  order,  the  wish  to  have  a  common  life  well 
arranged  and  regulated,  tranquil  and  steady. 

Here  I  began  to  see  my  way  more  clear.  Those 
farms  of  eastern  America,  which  would  look  to  a  for 
eigner  so  rude  and  ill-kept,  have  nourished  a  race  of 
men  and  women  in  whom  regularity  and  moral 
steadiness  and  consideration  of  the  common  welfare 
have  been  characteristic  traits.  Their  villages  and 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

towns,  with  few  exceptions,  are  well  cared  for  physi 
cally;  and  socially,  to  use  a  phrase  which  I  heard 
from  one  of  my  guides  in  Maine,  they  are  "as  calm 
as  a  clock."  They  have  their  Village  Improvement 
Societies,  their  Lyceum  Lecture  Courses,  their 
Public  Libraries,  their  churches  (often  more  than 
they  need),  and  their  schoolhouses,  usually  the 
finest  of  all  their  buildings.  They  have  poured  into 
the  great  cities,  year  after  year,  an  infusion  of  strong 
and  pure  American  blood  which  has  been  of  the 
highest  value,  not  only  in  filling  the  arteries  of 
industry  and  trade  and  the  professions  with  a  fresh 
current  of  vigorous  life,  but  also  in  promoting  the 
rapid  assimilation  of  the  mass  of  foreign  immigrants. 
They  have  sent  out  a  steady  flood  of  westward-moving 
population  which  has  carried  with  it  the  ideals  and 
institutions,  the  customs  and  the  habits,  of  common 
order  and  social  cooperation. 

On  the  crest  of  the  advancing  wave,  to  be  sure,  there 
is  a  picturesque  touch  of  foam  and  fury.  The  first 
comers,  the  prospectors,  miners,  ranchers,  land-grab 
bers,  lumbermen,  adventurers,  are  often  rough  and 
turbulent,  careless  of  the  amenities,  and  much  given 
to  the  profanities.  But  they  are  the  men  who 
break  the  way  and  open  the  path.  Behind  them 
come  the  settlers  bringing  the  steady  life. 

I  could  wish  the  intelligent  foreigner  to  see  the 
immense  corn-fields  of  Indiana,  Illinois,  and  Kansas, 
160 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

the  vast  wheat-fields  of  the  Northwest,  miles  and  miles 
of  green  and  golden  harvest,  cultivated,  reaped,  and 
garnered  with  a  skill  and  accuracy  which  resembles 
the  movements  of  a  mighty  army.  I  could  wish  him 
to  see  the  gardens  and  orchards  of  the  Pacific  slope, 
miles  and  miles  of  opulent  bloom  and  fruitage, 
watered  by  a  million  streams,  more  fertile  than  the 
paradise  of  Damascus.  I  could  wish  him  to  see  the 
towns  and  little  cities  which  have  grown  up  as  if  by 
magic  everywhere,  each  one  developing  an  industry, 
a  social  life,  a  civic  consciousness  of  its  own,  in  forms 
which,  though  often  bare  and  simple,  are  almost 
always  regular  and  respectable  even  to  the  point  of 
monotony.  Then  perhaps  he  would  believe  that  the 
race  which  has  done  these  things  in  a  hundred  years 
has  a  real  and  deep  instinct  of  common  order. 

But  the  peculiarly  American  quality  in  this  in 
stinct  is  its  individualism.  It  does  not  wish  to  be 
organized.  It  wishes  to  organize  itself.  It  craves 
form,  but  it  dislikes  formality.  It  prizes  and 
cherishes  the  sense  of  voluntary  effort  more  than  the 
sense  of  obedience.  It  has  its  eye  fixed  on  the  end 
which  it  desires,  a  peaceable  and  steady  life,  a  tran 
quil  and  prosperous  community.  It  sometimes  over 
looks  the  means  which  are  indirectly  and  obscurely 
serviceable  to  that  end.  It  is  inclined  to  be  suspicious 
of  any  routine  or  convention  whose  direct  practical 
benefit  is  not  self-evident.  It  has  a  slight  contempt 
M  161 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

for  etiquette  and  manners  as  superficial  things.  Its 
ideal  is  not  elegance,  but  utility;  not  a  dress-parade, 
but  a  march  in  comradeship  toward  a  common  goal. 
It  is  reluctant  to  admit  the  value  of  the  parade  even 
as  a  discipline  and  preparation  for  the  march.  Often 
it  demands  so  much  liberty  for  the  individual  that  the 
smooth  interaction  of  the  different  parts  of  the  com 
munity  is  disturbed  or  broken. 

The  fabric  of  common  order  in  America  is  sound 
and  strong  at  the  centre.  The  pattern  is  well-marked, 
and  the  threads  are  firmly  woven.  But  the  edges  are 
ragged  and  unfinished.  Many  of  our  best  cities  have 
a  fringe  of  ugliness  and  filth  around  them  which  is 
like  a  torn  and  bedraggled  petticoat  on  a  woman 
otherwise  well  dressed. 

Approaching  New  York,  or  Cincinnati,  or  Pittsburg, 
or  Chicago,  you  pass  first  through  a  delightful  region, 
where  the  homes  of  the  prosperous  are  spread  upon 
the  hills,  reminding  you  of  a  circle  of  Paradise ;  and 
then  through  a  region  of  hideous  disorder  and  new 
ruins,  which  has  the  aspect  of  a  circle  of  Purgatory, 
and  makes  you  doubt  whether  it  is  safe  to  go  any 
farther  for  fear  you  may  come  to  a  worse  place. 
This  neglected  belt  of  hideous  suburbs  around  some 
of  the  richest  cities  in  the  world  is  typical  and 
symbolical.  It  speaks  of  the  haste  with  which 
things  have  been  done;  of  the  tendency  to  overlook 
detail,  provided  the  main  purpose  is  accomplished; 
162 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

of  the  lack  of  thoroughness,  and  the  indifference 
to  appearance,  which  are  common  American  faults. 
It  suggests,  also,  the  resistance  which  a  strong 
spirit  of  individualism  offers  to  civic  supervision  and 
control;  the  tenacity  with  which  men  cling  to  their 
supposed  right  to  keep  their  houses  in  dirt  and  dis 
order;  the  difficulty  of  making  them  comply  with 
general  laws  of  sanitation  and  public  improvement; 
and  the  selfishness  with  which  land-owners  will  leave 
their  neglected  property  to  disfigure  the  city  from 
whose  growth  they  expect  in  ten  or  twenty  years  to 
reap  a  large  profit. 

Yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  this  very  typical  mark  of  an 
imperfect  sense  of  the  value  of  physical  neatness  and 
orderliness  in  American  life  is  not  growing,  but  dimin 
ishing.  The  fringes  of  the  cities  are  not  nearly  as  bad 
as  they  were  thirty  or  forty  years  ago.  In  many  of 
them,  —  notably  in  Philadelphia  and  Boston  and 
some  of  the  western  cities,  —  beauty  has  taken  the 
place  of  ugliness.  Parks  and  playgrounds  have  been 
created  where  formerly  there  were  only  waste  places 
filled  with  rubbish.  Tumble-down  shanties  give 
way  to  long  rows  of  trim  little  houses.  Even  the 
factories  cease  to  look  like  dingy  prisons  and  put  on 
an  air  of  self-respect.  Nuisances  are  abolished. 
The  country  can  draw  near  to  the  city  without 
holding  its  nose. 

This  gradual  improvement,  also,  is  symbolical. 
163 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

It  speaks  of  individualism  becoming  conscious  of  its 
own  defects  and  dangers.  It  speaks  of  an  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  more  intelligent  and  public-spirited 
citizens  to  better  the  conditions  of  life  for  all.  It 
speaks  of  a  deep  instinct  in  the  people  which  responds 
to  these  efforts  and  supports  them  with  the  necessary 
laws  and  enactments.  It  speaks  most  of  all,  I  hope, 
of  that  underlying  sense  of  common  order  which  is 
one  of  the  qualities  of  the  Spirit  of  America. 

Let  me  illustrate  this,  first,  by  some  observations  on 
the  average  American  crowd. 

The  obvious  thing  about  it  which  the  foreigner  is 
likely  to  notice  is  its  good  humour.  It  is  largely 
made  up  of  native  optimists,  who  think  the  world  is 
not  a  bad  place  to  live  in,  and  who  have  a  cheerful 
expectation  that  they  are  going  to  get  along  in  it. 
Although  it  is  composed  of  rather  excitable  indi 
viduals,  as  a  mass  it  is  not  easily  thrown  into  passion 
or  confusion.  The  emotion  to  which  it  responds 
most  quickly  is  neither  anger  nor  fear,  but  laughter. 

But  it  has  another  trait  still  more  striking,  and  that 
is  its  capacity  for  self-organization.  Watch  it  in 
front  of  a  ticket-office,  and  see  how  quickly  and  in 
stinctively  it  forms  "  the  line."  No  police  are  needed. 
The  crowd  takes  care  of  itself.  Every  man  finds 
his  place,  and  the  order  once  established  is  strictly 
maintained  by  the  whole  crowd.  The  man  who  tries 
to  break  it  is  laughed  at  and  hustled  out. 

164 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

When  an  accident  happens  in  the  street,  the  throng 
gathers  in  a  moment.  But  it  is  not  merely  curious. 
It  is  promptly  helpful.  There  is  some  one  to  sit  on 
the  head  of  the  fallen  horse,  —  a  dozen  hands  to  un 
buckle  the  harness;  if  a  litter  is  needed  for  the 
wounded  man,  it  is  quickly  improvised,  and  he  is 
carried  into  the  nearest  shop,  while  some  one  sends  a 
"hurry  call"  for  the  doctor  and  the  ambulance. 

Until  about  forty  years  ago,  the  whole  work  of 
fighting  fire  in  the  cities  was  left  to  voluntary 
effort.  Companies  of  citizens  were  formed,  like 
social  or  political  clubs,  which  purchased  fire- 
engines,  and  organized  themselves  into  a  brigade 
ready  to  come  at  the  first  alarm  of  a  conflagration. 
The  crowd  came  with  them  and  helped.  I  have  seen 
a  church  on  Sunday  morning  emptied  of  all  its  able- 
bodied  young  men  by  the  ringing  of  the  fire-bell. 
It  is  true  that  there  was  a  keen  rivalry  among  these 
voluntary  fire-fighters  which  sometimes  led  them  to 
fight  one  another  on  [their  way  to  a  conflagration. 
But  out  of  these  free  associations  have  grown  the 
paid  fire-departments  of  the  large  cities,  with  their 
fine  tradition  of  courage  and  increased  efficiency. 

If  you  wish  to  see  an  American  crowd  in  its  most 
extraordinary  aspect,  you  should  go  to  a  political 
convention  for  the  nomination  of  a  President.  The 
streets  swarming  with  people,  all  hurrying  in  one 
direction,  talking  loudly,  laughing,  cheering;  the 

165 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

vast,  barn-like  hall  draped  with  red,  white,  and  blue 
bunting,  and  packed  with  12,000  of  the  200,000 
folks  who  have  tried  to  get  into  it;  the  thousand 
delegates  sitting  together  in  solid  cohorts  according 
to  the  States  which  they  represent,  each  cohort  ready 
to  shout  and  cheer  and  vote  as  on^.  man  for  its 
"favourite  son";  the  officers  on  the  far-away  plat 
form,  Lilliputian  figures  facing,  directing,  dominat 
ing  this  Brobdignagian  mass  of  humanity;  the  buzz 
ing  of  the  audience  in  the  intervals  of  business ;  the 
alternate  waves  of  excitement  and  uneasiness  that 
sweep  over  it;  the  long  speeches,  the  dull  speeches, 
the  fiery  speeches,  the  outbreaks  of  laughter  and  ap 
plause,  the  coming  and  going  of  messengers,  the 
waving  of  flags  and  banners,  —  what  does  it  all 
mean  ?  What  reason  or  order  is  there  in  it  ?  What 
motives  guide  and  control  this  big,  good-natured 
crowd  ? 

Wait.  You  are  at  the  Republican  Convention  in 
Chicago.  The  leadership  of  Mr.  Roosevelt  in  the 
party  is  really  the  point  in  dispute,  though  not  a 
word  has  been  said  about  it.  A  lean,  clean-cut,  in 
cisive  man  is  speaking,  the  Chairman  of  the  con 
vention.  Presently  he  shoots  out  a  sentence  referring 
to  "  the  best  abused  and  the  most  popular  man  in 
America. "  As  if  it  were  a  signal  given  by  a  gun, 
that  phrase  lets  loose  a  storm,  a  tempest  of  applause 
for  Roosevelt,  —  cheers,  yells,  bursts  of  song,  the 

1 66 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

blowing  of  brass-bands,  the  roaring  of  megaphones, 
the  waving  of  flags;  more  cheers  like  volleys  of 
musketry;  a  hurricane  of  vocal  enthusiasm,  dying 
down  for  a  moment  to  break  out  in  a  new  place, 
redoubling  itself  in  vigour  as  if  it  had  just  begun, 
shaking  the  rafters  and  making  the  bunting  flutter 
in  the  wind.  For  forty-seven  minutes  by  the  clock 
that  American  crowd  pours  out  its  concerted  enthusi 
asm,  and  makes  a  new  "record"  for  the  length  of  a 
political  demonstration. 

Now  change  the  scene  to  Denver,  a  couple  of  weeks 
later.  The  Democrats  are  holding  their  convention. 
You  are  in  the  same  kind  of  a  hall,  only  a  little  larger, 
filled  with  the  same  kind  of  a  crowd,  only  more  of  it. 
The  leadership  of  Mr.  Bryan  is  the  point  in  dispute, 
and  everybody  knows  it.  Presently  a  speaker  on  the 
platform  mentions  "the  peerless  son  of  Nebraska" 
and  pauses  as  if  he  expected  a  reply.  It  comes  like 
an  earthquake.  The  crowd  breaks  into  a  long,  in 
describable,  incredible  tumult  of  applause,  just  like 
the  other  one,  but  lasting  now  for  more  than  eighty 
minutes,  —  a  new  " record"  of  demonstration. 

What  are  these  scenes  at  which  you  have  assisted? 
The  meetings  of  two  entirely  voluntary  associations 
of  American  citizens,  who  have  agreed  to  work  to 
gether  for  political  purposes.  And  what  are  these 
masses  of  people  who  are  capable  of  cheering  in 
unison  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  or  an  hour  and 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

a  quarter  ?  Just  two  American  crowds  showing  their 
enthusiasm  for  their  favourites. 

What  does  it  all  prove  ? 

Nothing,  —  I  think,  —  except  an  extraordinary 
capacity  for  self-organization. 


But  the  Spirit  of  America  shows  the  sense  of 
common  order  in  much  deeper  and  more  significant 
things  than  the  physical  smoothing  and  polishing 
town  and  country,  or  than  the  behaviour  of  an  aver 
age  crowd.  It  is  of  these  more  important  things  that 
I  wish  to  give  some  idea. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  first  instinct  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  confronted  by  a  serious  difficulty  or  problem, 
is  to  appoint  a  committee  and  form  a  society. 
Whether  this  be  true  or  not,  I  am  sure  that  many,  if 
not  most,  of  the  advances  in  moral  and  social  order 
in  the  United  States  during  the  last  thirty  or  forty 
years  have  been  begun  and  promoted  in  this  way. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  natural  way  in  a  conservative  republic. 

Where  public  opinion  rules,  expressing  itself  more 
or  less  correctly  in  popular  suffrage,  no  real  reform 
can  be  accomplished  without  first  winning  the  opinion 
of  the  public  in  its  favour.  Those  who  believe  in 
the  reform  must  get  together  in  order  to  do  this. 
They  must  gather  their  evidence,  present  their  argu 
ments,  show  why  and  how  certain  things  ought  to  be 
done,  and  urge  the  point  until  the  public  sees  it. 

1 68 


/ 
of      / 

*-V 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

Then,  in  some  cases,  legislation  follows.  The 
moral  sense,  or  it  may  be  merely  the  practical 
common  sense,  le  gros  ban  sens  de  menage,  of  the 
community,  takes  shape  in  some  formal  statute  or 
enactment.  A  State  or  municipal  board  or  com 
mission  is  appointed,  and  the  reform  passes  from 
the  voluntary  to  the  organic  stage.  The  association 
or  committee  which  promoted  it  disappears  in  a 
blaze  of  congratulation,  or  perhaps  continues  its 
existence  to  watch  the  enforcement  of  the  new  laws. 

But  there  is  another  class  of  cases  in  which  no 
formal  legislation  seems  to  be  adequate  to  meet  the 
evils,  or  in  which  the  process  of  law-making  is  impeded 
or  perhaps  altogether  prevented  by  the  American 
system  of  dividing  the  power  between  the  national, 
State,  and  local  governments.  Here  the  private 
association  of  public-spirited  citizens  must  act  as  a 
compensating  force  in  the  body  politic.  It  must  take 
what  it  can  get  in  the  way  of  partial  organic  reform, 
and  supply  what  is  lacking  by  voluntary  cooperation. 

There  is  still  a  third  class  of  evils  which  seem  to 
have  their  roots  not  in  the  structure  of  society,  but 
in  human  nature  itself,  and  for  these  the  typical 
American  believes  that  the  only  amelioration  is  a 
steady  and  friendly  effort  by  men  of  good-will. 
He  does  not  look  for  the  establishment  of  the  millen 
nium  by  statute.  He  does  not  think  that  the  im 
personal  State  can  strengthen  character,  bind  up 

169 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

broken  hearts,  or  be  a  nursing  mother  to  the  ignorant; 
the  wounded,  and  the  helpless.  For  this  work  there 
must  always  be  a  personal  service,  a  volunteer  ser 
vice,  a  service  to  which  men  and  women  are  bound, 
not  by  authority,  but  by  the  inward  ties  of  philan 
thropy  and  religion. 

Now  these  three  kinds  of  voluntary  cooperation  for 
the  bettering  of  the  common  order  are  not  peculiar 
to  America.  One  finds  them  in  every  nation  that  has 
the  seed  of  progress  in  its  mind  or  the  vision  of  the 
civitas  Dei  in  its  soul,  —  and  nowhere  more  than  in 
France.  The  French  have  a  genius  for  society  and 
a  passion  for  societies.  But  I  am  not  sure  that  they 
understand  how  much  the  Americans  resemble  them 
in  the  latter  respect,  and  how  much  has  been  ac 
complished  in  the  United  States  by  way  of  voluntary 
social  cooperation  under  an  individualistic  system. 

Take  the  subject  of  hospitals.  I  was  reading 
the  other  day  a  statement  by  M.  Jules  Huret :  — 

"  At  Pittsburg,  the  industrial  hell,  which  contains  60,000 
Italians,  and  300,000  Slavs,  Croats,  Hungarians,  etc.,  in  the 
city  and  its  suburbs,  —  at  Pittsburg,  capital  of  the  Steel  Trust, 
which  distributes  700  millions  of  interest  and  dividends  every 
year,  —  there  is  no  free  hospital !  " 

This  is  wonderfully  incorrect.  There  are  thirty- 
three  hospitals  at  Pittsburgh,  fifteen  public  and  eigh 
teen  private.  In  1908,  thirteen  of  these  hospitals 

170 


COMMON   ORDER    AND    COOPERATION 

treated  over  ten  thousand  free  patients,  at  a  cost 
of  more  than  three  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

In  New  York  there  are  more  than  forty  hospitals, 
of  which  six  are  municipal  institutions,  while  the 
others  are  incorporated  by  associations  of  citizens 
and  supported  largely  by  benevolent  gifts ;  and  more 
than  forty  free  dispensaries  for  the  treatment  of 
patients  and  the  distribution  of  medicines.  In  fact, 
the  dispensaries  increased  so  rapidly,  a  few  years  ago, 
that  the  regular  physicians  complained  that  their 
business  was  unfairly  reduced.  They  said  that  pros 
perous  people  went  to  the  dispensary  to  save  expense ; 
and  they  humbly  suggested  that  no  patient  who  wore 
diamonds  should  be  received  for  free  treatment. 

In  the  United  States  in  1903  there  were  1500  hos 
pitals  costing  about  $29,000,000  a  year  for  mainte 
nance  :  $9,000,000  of  this  came  from  public  funds, 
and  the  remaining  $20,000,000  from  charitable  gifts 
and  from  paying  patients.  One-third  of  the  patients 
were  in  public  institutions,  the  other  two-thirds  in 
hospitals  under  private  or  religious  control.  There 
is  not  a  city  of  any  consequence  in  America  which  is 
without  good  hospital  accommodations;  and  there 
are  few  countries  in  the  world  where  it  is  more  com 
fortable  for  a  stranger  to  break  a  leg  or  have  a  mild  at 
tack  of  appendicitis.  All  this  goes  to  show  that  the 
Americans  recognize  the  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
as  a  part  of  the  common  order.  They  perceive  that 

171 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

the  State  never  has  been,  and  probably  never  will 
be,  able  to  do  all  that  is  needed  without  the  help  of 
benevolent  individuals,  religious  bodies,  and  philan 
thropic  societies. 

How  generously  this  help  is  given  in  America, 
not  only  for  hospitals,  but  for  all  other  objects  of 
benevolence,  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  the 
public  gifts  and  bequests  of  private  citizens  for  the 
year  1907  amounted  to  more  than  $100,000,000. 

Let  me  give  another  illustration  of  voluntary  social 
cooperation  in  this  sphere  of  action  which  lies  at 
least  in  part  beyond  the  reach  of  the  State.  In  all 
the  American  cities  of  large  size,  you  will  find  in 
stitutions  which  are  called  "Settlements,"  —  a  vague 
word  which  has  been  defined  to  mean  "homes  in  the 
poorer  quarters  of  a  city  where  educated  men  and 
women  may  live  in  daily  contact  with  the  working  peo 
ple."  The  first  house  of  this  kind  to  be  established 
was  Toynbee  Hall  in  London,  in  1885.  Two  years 
later  the  Neighbourhood  Guild  was  founded  in  New 
York,  and  in  1889  the  College  Settlement  in  the  same 
city,  and  Hull  House  in  Chicago,  were  established. 
There  are  now  reported  some  three  hundred  of  such 
settlement  houses  in  the  world,  of  which  England 
has  56,  Holland  n,  Scotland  10,  France  4,  Ger 
many  2,  and  the  United  States  207.  I  will  take,  as 
examples,  Hull  House  in  Chicago,  and  the  Henry 
Street  Settlement  in  New  York. 

172 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

Hull  House  was  started  by  two  ladies  who  went 
into  one  of  the  worst  districts  of  Chicago  and  took 
a  house  with  the  idea  of  making  it  a  radiating  centre 
of  orderly  and  happy  life.  Their  friends  backed  them 
up  with  money  and  help.  After  five  years  the  enter 
prise  was  incorporated.  The  buildings,  which  are  of 
the  most  substantial  kind,  now  cover  a  whole  city 
block,  some  forty  or  fifty  thousand  square  feet,  and, 
include  an  apartment  house,  a  boys'  club,  a  girls' 
club,  a  theatre,  a  gymnasium,  a  day  nursery,  work 
shops,  class  rooms,  a  coffee-house,  and  so  on.  There 
are  forty-four  educated  men  and  women  in  residence 
who  are  engaged  in  self-supporting  occupations,  and 
who  give  their  free  time  to  the  work  of  the  settle 
ment.  A  hundred  and  fifty  outside  helpers  come 
every  week  to  serve  as  teachers,  friendly  visitors,  or 
directors  of  clubs :  9000  people  a  week  come  to  the 
house  as  members  of  some  one  of  its  organizations  or 
as  parts  of  an  audience.  There  are  free  concerts,  and 
lectures,  and  classes  of  various  kinds  in  study  and  in 
handicraft.  Investigations  of  the  social  and  industrial 
conditions  of  the  neighbourhood  are  carried  on,  not 
officially,  but  informally;  and  the  knowledge  thus 
obtained  has  been  used  not  only  for  the  visible 
transformation  of  the  region  around  Hull  House, 
but  also  to  throw  light  upon  the  larger  needs  and 
possibilities  of  improvement  in  Chicago  and  other 
American  cities.  Hull  House,  in  fact,  is  an  example 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

of  ethical  and  humane  housekeeping  on  a  big  scale 
in  a  big  town. 

The  Henry  Street  Settlement  in  New  York  is 
quite  different  in  its  specific  quality.  It  was  begun 
in  1893  by  two  trained  nurses,  who  went  down  into 
the  tenement-house  district,  to  find  the  sick  and  to 
nurse  them  in  their  homes.  At  first  they  lived  in  a 
tenement  house  themselves ;  then  the  growth  of  their 
work  and  the  coming  of  other  helpers  forced  them  to 
get  a  little  house,  then  another,  and  another,  a  cot 
tage  in  the  country,  a  convalescent  home.  The  idea 
of  the  settlement  was  single  and  simple.  It  was  to 
meet  the  need  of  intelligent  and  skilful  nursing  in  the 
very  places  where  dirt  and  ignorance,  carelessness 
and  superstition,  were  doing  the  most  harm,  — 

"in  the  crowded  warrens  of  the  poor." 

This  little  company  of  women,  some  twenty  or  thirty 
of  them,  go  about  from  tenement  to  tenement, 
bringing  cleanliness  and  order  with  them.  In  the 
presence  of  disease  and  pain  they  teach  lessons  which 
could  be  taught  in  no  other  way.  They  nurse  five 
or  six  thousand  patients  every  year,  and  make  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  visits.  In  addition  to  this,  largely 
through  their  influence  and  example,  the  Board  of 
Education  has  adopted  a  trained  nursing  service  in 
the  public  schools,  and  has  appointed  a  special  corps 
of  nurses  to  take  prompt  charge  of  cases  of  contagious 

174 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

disease  among  the  school  children.  The  Nurses' 
Settlement,  in  fact,  is  a  repetition  of  the  parable  of  the 
Good  Samaritan  in  a  crowded  city  instead  of  on  a 
lonely  road. 

These  two  examples  illustrate  the  kind  of  work 
that  is  going  on  all  over  the  United  States.  Every 
religious  body,  Jewish  or  Christian,  has  some  part  in 
it.  It  touches  many  sides  of  life,  —  this  effort  to  do 
for  the  common  order  what  the  State  has  never  been 
able  to  accomplish  fully,  —  to  sweeten  and  humanize 
it.  I  wish  that  there  were  time  to  speak  of  some 
particularly  interesting  features,  like  the  Children's 
Aid  Society,  the  George  Junior  Republic,  the  Associa 
tion  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor,  the 
Kindergarten  Association.  But  now  I  must  pass  at 
once  to  the  second  kind  of  social  effort,  that  in  which 
the  voluntary  cooperation  of  the  citizen  enlightens 
and  guides  and  supplements  the  action  of  the  State. 

Here  I  might  speak  of  the  great  question  of  the 
housing  of  the  poor,  and  of  the  relation  of  private 
building  and  loan  associations  to  governmental 
regulation  of  tenements  and  dwelling-houses.  This 
is  one  of  the  points  on  which  America  has  lagged 
behind  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world.  Our  excessive 
spirit  of  laissez-faire,  and  our  cheerful  optimism,  — 
which  in  this  case  justifies  the  cynical  definition  of 
optimism  as  "an  indifference  to  the  sufferings  of 
others,"  —  permitted  the  development  in  New  York 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

of  the  most  congested  and  rottenly  overcrowded 
ten  acres  on  the  face  of  the  habitable  globe.  But  the 
Tenement  House  Commission  of  1894,  and  the  other 
commissions  which  followed  it,  did  much  to  improve 
conditions.  A  fairly  good  Tenement  House  Act  was 
passed.  A  special  Department  of  the  municipality 
was  created  to  enforce  it.  The  dark  interior  rooms, 
the  vile  and  unsanitary  holes,  the  lodgings  without 
water  or  air  or  fire-escapes,  are  being  slowly  but  surely 
broken  up  and  extirpated,  and  a  half-dozen  private 
societies,  combining  philanthropy  with  business,  are 
building  decent  houses  for  working  people,  which 
return  from  3  per  cent  to  5  per  cent  on  the  capital 
invested. 

For  our  present  purpose,  however,  it  will  be  better 
to  take  an  example  which  is  less  complicated, 
and  in  which  the  cooperation  of  the  State  and  the 
good-will  of  the  private  citizen  can  be  more  closely 
and  simply  traced.  I  mean  the  restriction  and  the 
regulation  of  child  labour. 

Every  intelligent  nation  sees  in  its  children  its 
most  valuable  asset.  That  their  physical  and 
moral  development  should  be  dwarfed  or  paralyzed 
by  bondage  to  exhausting  and  unwholesome  labour, 
or  by  a  premature  absorption  in  toil  of  any  kind, 
would  be  at  once  a  national  disgrace  and  a  national 
calamity. 

Three  kinds  of  societies  have  been  and  still  are  at 
176 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

work  in  America  to  prevent  this  shame  and  disaster. 
First,  there  are  the  societies  which  are  devoted  to  the 
general  protection  of  all  the  interests  of  the  young, 
like  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to 
Children. 

Then  there  are  the  societies  which  make  their  ap 
peal  to  the  moral  sense  of  the  community  to  condemn 
and  suppress  all  kinds  of  inhumanity  in  the  conduct 
of  industry  and  trade.  Of  these  the  Consumers' 
League  is  an  example.  Founded  in  New  York  in 
1890,  by  a  few  ladies  of  public  spirit,  it  has  spread 
to  twenty  other  States,  with  sixty-four  distinct  societies 
and  a  national  organization  for  the  whole  country. 
Its  central  idea  is  to  persuade  people,  rich  and  poor, 
to  buy  only  those  things  which  are  made  and  sold 
under  fair  and  humane  conditions.  The  responsi 
bility  of  men  and  women  for  the  way  in  which  they 
spend  their  money  is  recognized.  They  are  asked  to 
remember  that  the  cheapness  of  a  bargain  is  not  the 
only  thing  for  them  to  consider.  They  ought  to  think 
whether  it  has  been  made  cheap  at  the  cost  of  human 
sorrow  and  degradation,  whether  the  distress  and 
pain  and  exhaustion  of  overtasked  childhood  and 
ill-treated  womanhood  have  made  their  cheap  bargain 
a  shameful  and  poisonous  thing.  The  first  work  of 
the  leagues  was  to  investigate  the  actual  condition  of 
labour  in  the  great  stores.  The  law  forbade  them  to 
publish  a  black  list  of  the  establishments  where  the 

N  177 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

employees  were  badly  treated.  That  would  have 
been  in  the  nature  of  a  boycott.  But  they  ingeniously 
evaded  this  obstacle  by  publishing  a  white  list  of  those 
which  treated  their  people  decently  and  kindly. 
Thus  the  standard  of  a  "Fair  House  "  where  a  living 
wage  was  paid,  where  children  of  tender  years  were 
not  employed,  where  the  hours  of  work  were  not  ex 
cessive,  and  where  the  sanitary  conditions  were  good, 
was  established,  and  that  standard  has  steadily  been 
raised. 

Then  the  leagues  went  on  to  investigate  the  condi 
tions  of  production  of  the  goods  sold  in  the  shops. 
The  National  League  issues  a  white  label  which 
guarantees  that  every  article  upon  which  it  is  found 
has  been  manufactured  in  a  place  where,  (i)  the 
State  factory  law  is  obeyed,  (2)  no  children  under 
sixteen  years  of  age  are  employed,  (3)  no  night  work 
is  required  and  the  working-day  does  not  exceed  ten 
hours,  (4)  no  goods  are  given  out  to  be  made  away 
from  the  factory.  At  the  same  time  the  Consumers' 
League  has  been  steadily  pressing  the  legislatures  and 
governors  of  the  different  States  for  stricter  and  better 
laws  in  regard  to  the  employment  of  women  and 
children. 

The  third  class  of  societies  which  are  at  work  in 
this  field  are  those  which  deal  directly  with  the 
question  of  child  labour.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  under  the  American  system  this  is  a  matter  which 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

is  left  to  the  control  of  the  separate  States.  Natu 
rally  there  has  been  the  greatest  imaginable  diversity 
among  them.  For  a  long  time  there  were  many  that 
had  practically  no  laws  upon  the  subject,  or  laws 
so  defective  that  they  were  useless.  Even  now  the 
States  are  far  from  anything  like  harmony  or  equality 
in  their  child-labour  laws.  Illinois,  Massachusetts, 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  Ohio,  and  Wisconsin  are 
probably  in  the  lead  in  good  legislation.  If  we  may 
judge  by  the  statistics  of  children  between  ten  and 
fourteen  years  who  are  unable  to  read  or  write, 
Tennessee,  Mississippi,  the  Carolinas,  Louisiana, 
Georgia,  and  Alabama  are  in  the  rear. 

It  must  be  remembered,  also,  that  the  number  of 
children  between  ten  and  fifteen  years  employed  in 
manufacturing  pursuits  in  the  United  States  increased 
from  1890  to  1900  more  than  twice  as  fast  as  the  popu 
lation  of  the  country,  and  that  the  Census  of  1900 
gives  the  total  of  bread-winners  under  fifteen  years 
of  age  as  1,750,000.  A  graphic  picture  of  the  actual 
condition  of  child  labour  in  the  United  States  may 
be  found  in  The  Cry  of  the  Children,  by  Mrs. 
John  Van  Vorst  (New  York,  1908). 

Here  is  a  little  army  —  no,  a  vast  army  —  of  little 
soldiers,  whose  sad  and  silent  files  are  full  of  menace 
for  the  republic. 

The  principal  forces  arrayed  against  this  perilous 
condition  of  things  have  been  the  special  committees 

179 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

of  the  Women's  Clubs  everywhere,  the  Child-Laboui 
Committees  in  different  States,  and  finally  the  Na 
tional  Child-Labour  Committee  organized  in  1904. 
Through  their  efforts  there  has  been  a  great  advance 
in  legislation  on  the  subject.  In  1905,  twenty-two 
States  enacted  laws  regulating  the  employment  of 
children.  In  1906  there  were  six  States  which  legis 
lated,  including  Georgia  and  Iowa,  which  for  the  first 
time  put  a  law  against  child  labour  on  their  statute- 
books.  In  1907  eight  States  amended  their  laws. 
In  the  same  year  a  national  investigation  of  the  sub 
ject  was  ordered  by  Congress  under  direction  of  the 
Federal  Commissioner  of  Labour. 

A  bill  was  prepared  which  attempted  to  deal  with 
the  subject  indirectly  through  that  provision  of  the 
Constitution  which  gives  Congress  the  power  to 
"regulate  commerce."  This  bill  proposed  to  make 
it  unlawful  to  transport  from  one  State  to  another  the 
product  of  any  factory  or  mine  in  which  children  un 
der  fourteen  years  of  age  were  employed.  It  was  a 
humane  and  ingenious  device.  But  it  is  doubtful 
whether  it  can  ever  be  made  an  effective  law.  The 
best  judges  think  that  it  stretches  the  idea  of  the 
regulation  of  interstate  commerce  beyond  reasonable 
limits,  and  that  the  national  government  has  no  power 
to  control  industrial  production  in  the  separate  States 
without  an  amendment  to  the  Constitution.  If  this 
be  true  (and  I  am  inclined  to  believe  it  is),  then  the 

180 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

best  safeguard  of  America  against  the  evils  of  child 
labour  must  be  persistent  action  of  these  private  asso 
ciations  in  each  community,  investigating  and  report 
ing  the  actual  conditions,  awakening  and  stimulating 
the  local  conscience,  pushing  steadily  for  better  State 
laws,  and,  when  they  are  enacted,  still  working  to 
create  a  public  sentiment  which  will  enforce  them. 

It  is  one  thing  to  love  your  own  children  and  care 
for  them.  It  is  another  thing  to  have  a  wise,  tender, 
protecting  regard  for  all  the  children  of  your  country. 
We  wish  and  hope  to  see  better  and  more  uniform 
laws  against  child  labour  in  America.  But,  after  all, 
nothing  can  take  the  place  of  the  sentiment  of  fa 
therhood  and  motherhood  in  patriotism.  And  that 
comes  and  stays  only  through  the  voluntary  effort 
of  men  and  women  of  good-will. 

The  last  sphere  in  which  the  sense  of  common 
order  in  America  has  been  expressed  and  promoted 
by  social  cooperation  is  that  of  direct  and  definite 
reform  accomplished  by  legislation,  as  a  result,  at 
least  in  part,  of  the  work  of  some  society  or  committee, 
formed  for  that  specific  purpose.  Here  a  small, 
but  neat,  illustration  is  at  hand. 

For  many  years  America  practised,  and  indeed 
legally  sanctioned,  the  habit  of  literary  piracy. 
Foreign  authors  were  distinctly  refused  any  protection 
in  the  United  States  for  the  fruit  of  their  intellectual 

181 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

labours.  A  foreigner  might  make  a  hat,  and  no  one 
could  steal  it.  He  might  cultivate  a  crop  of  potatoes, 
and  no  one  could  take  them  from  him  without  paying 
for  them.  But  let  him  write  a  book,  and  any  one 
could  reprint  it,  and  sell  it,  and  make  a  fortune  out 
of  it,  without  being  compelled  to  give  the  unhappy 
author  a  penny.  American  authors  felt  the  shame 
of  this  state  of  things,  —  and  the  disorder,  too,  for  it 
demoralized  the  book-trade  and  brought  a  mass  of 
stolen  goods  into  cheap  competition  with  those  which 
had  paid  an  honest  royalty  to  their  makers.  A 
Copyright  League  was  formed  which  included  all  the 
well-known  writers  of  America.  After  years  of  hard 
work  this  league  secured  the  passage  of  an  inter 
national  copyright  law  which  gave  the  same  protection 
to  the  foreigner  as  to  the  American  author,  providing 
only,  under  the  protective  tariff  system,  that  his 
book  must  be  printed  and  manufactured  in  the 
United  States. 

But  the  most  striking  and  important  example 
of  this  kind  of  work  is  that  of  the  Civil  Service  Re 
form  Association,  which  was  organized  in  1877.  Here 
a  few  words  of  explanation  are  necessary. 

In  the  early  history  of  the  United  States  the 
number  of  civil  offices  under  the  national  govern 
ment  was  comparatively  small,  and  the  appointments 
were  generally  made  for  ability  and  fitness.  But  as 
the  country  grew,  the  number  of  offices  increased 

182 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

with  tremendous  rapidity.  By  1830  the  so-called 
1  Spoils  System  '  which  regarded  them  as  prizes  of  po 
litical  war,  to  be  distributed  by  the  successful  party 
in  each  election  for  the  reward  and  encouragement  of 
its  adherents,  became  a  fixed  idea  in  the  public  mind. 
The  post-offices,  the  custom-houses,  all  departments 
of  the  civil  service,  were  treated  as  rich  treasuries  of 
patronage,  and  used  first  by  the  Democrats  and  then 
by  the  Republicans,  to  consolidate  and  perpetuate 
partisan  power. 

It  was  not  a  question  of  financial  corruption,  of 
bribery  with  money.  It  was  worse.  It  was  a  ques 
tion  of  the  disorder  and  impurity  of  the  national 
housekeeping,  of  the  debauchment  and  degradation 
of  the  daily  business  of  the  State. 

Notoriously  unfit  persons  were  appointed  to  re 
sponsible  positions.  The  tenure  of  office  was  brief 
and  insecure.  Every  presidential  election  threat 
ened  to  make  a  clean  sweep  of  the  hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  people  who  were  doing  the  necessary  routine 
work  of  the  nation.  Federal  office-holders  were 
practically  compelled  to  contribute  to  campaign 
expenses,  and  to  work  and  fight,  like  a  host  of  mer 
cenaries,  for  the  success  of  the  party  which  kept 
them  in  place.  Confusion  and  inefficiency  prevailed 
everywhere. 

In  1871  the  condition  of  affairs  had  become  intol 
erable.  President  Grant,  in  his  first  term,  recom- 

183 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

mended  legislation,  and  appointed  a  national  civil 
service  commission,  with  George  William  Curtis  at 
its  head.  Competitive  examinations  were  begun, 
and  a  small  appropriation  was  made  to  carry  on 
the  work.  But  the  country  was  not  yet  educated 
up  to  the  reform.  Congress  was  secretly  and  stub 
bornly  opposed  to  it.  The  appropriation  was  with 
drawn.  The  work  of  the  commission  was  ridiculed, 
and  in  his  second  term,  in  1875,  Grant  was  obliged 
to  give  it  up. 

Then,  the  Civil  Service  Reform  Association,  with 
men  like  George  William  Curtis,  Carl  Schurz, 
Dorman  B.  Eaton,  and  James  Russell  Lowell  as  its 
leaders,  was  organized.  A  vigorous  and  systematic 
campaign  of  public  agitation  and  education  was 
begun.  Candidates  for  the  Presidency  and  other 
elective  offices  were  called  to  declare  their  policy  on 
this  question. 

The  war  of  opinion  was  fierce.  The  assassination 
of  President  Garfield,  in  1881,  was  in  some  measure 
due  to  the  feeling  of  hostility  aroused  by  his  known 
opposition  to  the  Spoils  System.  His  successor, 
Vice-President  Arthur,  who  was  supposed  to  be  a 
spoilsman,  surprised  everybody  by  his  loyalty  to 
Garfield's  policy  on  this  point.  And  in  1883  a  bill 
for  the  reform  of  the  Civil  Service  was  passed  and  a 
new  commission  appointed.  The  next  President 
was  Grover  Cleveland,  an  ardent  and  fearless  friend 

184 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

of  the  reform,  who  greatly  increased  its  practical 
efficiency.  He  fought  against  Congress,  both  in  his 
first  and  in  his  second  term,  to  enlarge  the  scope 
and  operation  of  the  act  by  bringing  more  offices 
into  the  classified  and  competitive  service.  In  his 
second  term,  by  executive  order,  he  increased  the 
number  of  classified  positions  from  forty-three  thou 
sand  to  eighty-seven  thousand. 

Presidents  Harrison  and  McKinley  worked  in  the 
same  direction.  And  President  Roosevelt,  whose 
first  national  office  was  that  of  Civil  Service  Com 
missioner  from  1889  to  1895,  has  raised  and  strength 
ened  the  rules,  and  applied  the  merit  system  to  the 
consular  service  and  other  important  departments 
of  governmental  work. 

The  result  is  that  out  of  three  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  thousand  positions  in  the  executive  civil  service 
one  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  are  now  clas 
sified,  and  appointments  are  made  either  under  com 
petitive  examination  or  on  the  merit  system  for  proved 
efficiency.  This  is  an  immense  forward  step  in  the 
promotion  of  common  order,  and  it  is  largely  the 
result  of  the  work  of  the  Civil  Service  Reform 
Association,  acting  upon  the  formation  of  public 
opinion.  I  believe  it  would  be  impossible  for  any 
candidate  known  to  favour  the  Spoils  System  to  be 
elected  to  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States 
to-day. 

185 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

A  moment  of  thought  will  show  the  bearing  of 
this  illustration  upon  the  subject  which  we  are  now 
considering.  Here  was  a  big,  new,  democratic 
people,  self-reliant  and  sovereign,  prosperous  to  a 
point  where  self-complacency  was  almost  inevitable, 
and  grown  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  external  cor 
rection  and  control.  They  had  fallen  into  wretched 
habits  of  national  housekeeping.  Their  domestic 
service  was  disorderly  and  incompetent.  The  party 
politicians,  on  both  sides,  were  interested  in  main 
taining  this  bad  service,  because  they  made  a  profit 
out  of  it.  The  people  had  been  hardened  to  it;  they 
seemed  to  be  either  careless  and  indifferent,  in  their 
large,  happy-go-lucky  way,  or  else  positively  at 
tached  to  a  system  which  stirred  everything  up  every 
four  years  and  created  unlimited  opportunities  for 
office-seeking  and  salary-drawing.  What  power 
could  save  them  from  their  own  bad  judgment? 

There  was  no  higher  authority  to  set  them  right. 
Everything  was  in  their  own  hands.  The  case  looked 
hopeless.  But  in  less  than  thirty  years  the  voluntary 
effort  of  a  group  of  clear-sighted '  and  high-minded 
citizens  changed  everything.  An  appeal  to  the 
sense  of  common  order,  of  decency,  of  propriety, 
in  the  soul  of  the  people  created  a  sentiment  which 
was  too  strong  for  the  selfish  politicians  of  either 
party  to  resist.  The  popular  will  was  enlightened, 
converted,  transformed,  and  an  orderly,  just,  business- 

186 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

like  administration  of  the  Civil  Service  became,  if 
not  an  accomplished  fact,  at  least  a  universal  and 
acknowledged  aim  of  national  desire  and  effort. 

It  is  to  precisely  the  same  source  that  we  must 
look  with  hope  for  the  further  development  of  har 
mony,  and  social  equilibrium,  and  efficient  civic 
righteousness,  in  American  affairs.  It  is  by  pre 
cisely  the  same  process  that  America  must  save  herself 
from  the  perils  and  perplexities  which  are  inherent  in 
her  own  character  and  in  the  form  of  government 
which  she  has  evolved  to  fit  it. 

That  boastful  self-complacency  which  is  the  carica 
ture  of  self-reliance,  that  contempt  for  the  minority 
which  is  the  mockery  of  fair  play,  that  stubborn  per 
sonal  lawlessness  which  is  the  bane  of  the  strong  will 
and  the  energetic  temperament,  can  be  restrained, 
modified,  corrected,  and  practically  conquered,  only 
by  another  inward  force,  —  the  desire  of  common  or 
der,  the  instinct  of  social  cooperation.  And  there  is 
no  way  of  stimulating  this  desire,  of  cultivating  this 
instinct,  at  least  for  the  American  republic,  except  the 
way  of  voluntary  effort  and  association  among  the 
men  and  women  of  good-will. 

One  looks  with  amazement  upon  the  vast  array 
of  "societies"  of  all  kinds  which  have  sprung  into 
being  in  the  United  States  during  the  last  thirty  years. 
They  cover  every  subject  of  social  thought  and  en- 

187 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

deavour.  Their  documents  and  pamphlets  and  cir 
culars  fill  the  mails.  Their  appeals  for  contributions 
and  dues  tax  the  purse.  To  read  all  that  they  print 
would  be  a  weariness  to  the  flesh.  To  attend  all  their 
meetings  and  conferences  would  wreck  the  most  ro 
bust  listener.  To  speak  at  all  of  them  would  ruin  the 
most  fluent  orator.  A  feeling  of  humorous  discour 
agement  and  dismay  often  comes  over  the  quiet  man 
who  contemplates  this  astonishing  phase  of  American 
activity. 

But  if  he  happens  also  to  be  a  conscientious  man,  he 
is  bound  to  remember,  on  the  other  side,  that  the 
majority  of  these  societies  exist  for  some  practical 
end  which  belongs  to  the  common  order.  The 
Women's  Clubs,  all  over  the  country,  have  been 
powerful  promoters  of  local  decency  and  good  legis 
lation.  The  Leagues  for  Social  Service,  for  Political 
Education,  for  Municipal  Reform,  have  investigated 
conditions,  collected  facts,  and  acted  as  "  clearing 
houses  for  human  betterment."  The  White  Ribbon, 
and  Red  Ribbon,  and  Blue  Ribbon  Clubs  have 
worked  for  purity  and  temperance.  The  Prison  Asso 
ciations  have  sought  to  secure  the  treatment  of 
criminals  as  human  beings.  The  City  Clubs,  and 
Municipal  Leagues,  and  Vigilance  Societies  have 
acted  as  unpaid  watchmen  over  the  vital  interests  of 
the  great  cities.  The  Medical  and  Legal  Societies 
have  used  their  influence  in  behalf  of  sanitary  reform 

188 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

and  the  improvement  of  the  machinery  and  methods 
of  the  courts. 

There  is  no  subject  affecting  the  common  welfare 
on  which  Congress  would  venture  to  legislate  to-day 
until  the  committee  to  which  the  bill  had  been  re 
ferred  had  first  given  a  public  hearing.  At  these 
hearings,  which  are  open  to  all,  the  societies  that  are 
interested  present  their  facts  and  arguments,  and 
plead  their  cause. 

Even  associations  of  a  less  serious  character  seem 
to  recognize  their  civic  responsibilities.  The  Society 
of  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution  prints  and  distributes, 
in  a  dozen  different  languages,  a  moral  and  patriotic 
pamphlet  of  "Information  for  Immigrants."  The 
Sportsmen's  Clubs  take  an  active  interest  in  the  im 
provement  and  enforcement  of  laws  for  the  protec 
tion  of  fish  and  game.  The  Audubon  Societies  in 
many  parts  of  the  country  have  stopped,  or  at  least 
checked,  the  extermination  of  wild  birds  of  beauty  and 
song  for  the  supposed  adornment  of  women's  hats. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  still  many  and 
grave  defects  in  the  common  order  of  America.  For 
example,  when  a  bitter  and  prolonged  conflict  be 
tween  organized  capital  and  organized  labour  para 
lyzes  some  necessary  industry,  we  have  no  definite  and 
sure  way  of  protecting  that  great  third  party,  the  help 
less  consuming  public.  In  the  coal  strike,  a  few 

189 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

years  ago,  the  operators  and  the  workmen  were  at  a 
deadlock,  and  there  was  a  good  prospect  that  many 
people  would  freeze  to  death.  But  President  Roose 
velt,  with  the  approval  of  men  like  ex-President 
Cleveland,  forced  or  persuaded  the  two  warring 
parties  to  go  on  with  the  mining  of  coal,  while  a  com 
mittee  of  impartial  arbitration  settled  their  dispute. 

We  have  no  uniformity  in  our  game  laws,  our  for 
estry  laws,  our  laws  for  the  preservation  and  purity 
of  the  local  water-supply.  As  these  things  are  left  to 
the  control  of  the  separate  States,  it  will  be  very  diffi 
cult  to  bring  them  all  into  harmony  and  good  order. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  a  much  more  important 
matter,  —  the  laws  of  marriage  and  divorce.  Each 
State  and  Territory  has  its  own  legislation  on  this 
subject.  In  consequence  there  are  fifty-one  distinct 
divorce  codes  in  the  United  States  and  their  Terri 
tories.  South  Carolina  grants  no  divorce;  New 
York  and  North  Carolina  admit  only  one  cause;  New 
Hampshire  admits  fourteen.  In  some  of  the  States, 
like  South  Dakota,  a  legal  residence  of  six  months  is 
sufficient  to  qualify  a  person  to  sue  for  a  divorce; 
and  those  States  have  always  a  transient  colony  of 
people  who  are  anxious  to  secure  a  rapid  separation. 

The  provisions  in  regard  to  re-marriage  are  vari 
ous  and  confusing.  A  man  who  is  divorced  under 
the  law  of  South  Dakota  and  marries  again  can 
be  convicted  of  bigamy  in  New  York. 

190 


COMMON  ORDER  AND  COOPERATION 

All  this  is  immensely  disorderly  and  demoralizing. 
The  latest  statistics  which  are  accessible  show  that 
there  were  25,000  divorces  in  the  United  States  in  the 
year  1886.  The  annual  number  at  present  is  esti 
mated  at  nearly  60,000. 

But  the  work  which  is  being  done  by  the  National 
League  for  the  Protection  of  the  Family,  and  the 
united  efforts  of  the  churches,  which  have  been  deeply 
impressed  with  the  need  of  awakening  and  elevating 
public  sentiment  on  this  subject,  have  already  pro 
duced  an  improvement  in  many  States.  It  is  possible 
that  a  much  greater  uniformity  of  legislation  may  be 
reached,  even  though  a  national  law  may  not  be 
feasible.  It  is  certain  that  the  effective  protection  of 
the  family  must  be  secured  in  America,  as  elsewhere, 
by  a  social  education  and  cooperation  which  will 
teach  men  and  women  to  think  of  the  whole  subject 
" reverently,  soberly,  and  in  the  fear  of  God,  duly 
considering  the  causes  fpr  which  marriage  was 
ordained." 

In  this,  and  in  all  other  things  of  like  nature,  we 
Americans  look  into  the  future  not  without  misgivings 
and  fears,  but  with  an  underlying  confidence  that  the 
years  will  bring  a  larger  and  nobler  common  order, 
and  that  the  Republic  will  be  peace. 

In  the  minor  problems  we  shall  make  many  mis 
takes.  In  the  great  problems,  in  the  pressing  emer- 

191 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

gencies,  we  rely  upon  the  moral  power  in  reserve. 
The  sober  soul  of  the  people  is  neither  frivolous  nor 
fanatical.  It  is  earnest,  ethical,  desirous  of  the  com 
mon  good,  responsive  to  moral  appeal,  capable  of 
self-control,  and,  in  the  time  of  need,  strong  for  self- 
sacrifice.  It  has  its  hours  of  illusion,  its  intervals  of 
indifference  and  drowsiness.  But  while  there  are 
men  and  women  passionately  devoted  to  its  highest 
ideals,  and  faithful  in  calling  it  to  its  duties,  it  will  not 
wholly  slumber  nor  be  lost  in  death. 

If  there  is  to  be  an  American  aristocracy,  it  shall  not 
be  composed  of  the  rich,  nor  of  those  whose  only  pride 
is  in  their  ancient  name,  but  of  those  who  have  done 
most  to  keep  the  Spirit  of  America  awake  and  eager 
to  solve  the  problems  of  the  common  order,  of  those 
who  have  spoken  to  her  most  clearly  and  steadily,  by 
word  and  deed,  reminding  her  that 

"By  the  Soul 
Only,  the  Nations  shall  be  great  and  free." 


VI 

PERSONAL  DEVELOPMENT  AND 
EDUCATION 


VI 


PERSONAL  DEVELOPMENT  AND 
EDUCATION 

THE  Spirit  of  America  shows  its  ingrained  indi 
vidualism  nowhere  more  clearly  than  in  education. 
First,  by  the  breadth  of  the  provision  which  it  makes, 
up  to  a  certain  point,  for  everybody  who  wishes  to 
be  educated.  Second,  by  the  entire  absence  of  any 
thing  like  a  centralized  control  of  education.  Third, 
by  the  remarkable  evolution  of  different  types  of 
educational  institutions  and  the  liberty  of  choice 
which  they  offer  to  each  student. 

All  this  is  in  the  nature  of  evidence  to  the  existence 
of  a  fifth  quality  in  the  Spirit  of  America,  closely  con 
nected  with  the  sense  of  self-reliance  and  a  strong  will 
power,  intimately  related  to  the  love  of  fair  play  and 
common  order,  —  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
personal  development. 

Here  again,  as  in  the  previous  lectures,  what  we 
have  to  observe  and  follow  is  not  a  logical  syllogism, 
nor  a  geometrical  proposition  neatly  and  accurately 
worked  out.  It  is  a  natural  process  of  self-realization. 
It  is  the  history  of  the  soul  of  a  people  learning  how 
to  think  for  itself.  As  in  government,  in  social 
order,  in  organized  industry,  so  in  education,  America 

195 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

has  followed,  not  the  line  of  least  resistance,  nor  the 
line  of  abstract  doctrine,  but  the  line  of  vital  impulse. 

And  whence  did  this  particular  impulse  spring? 
From  a  sense  of  the  real  value  of  knowledge  to  man 
as  man.  From  a  conviction  that  there  is  no  natural 
right  more  precious  than  the  right  of  the  mind  to 
grow.  From  a  deep  instinct  of  prudence  reminding  a 
nation  in  which  the  people  are  the  sovereign  that  it 
must  attend  to  "the  education  of  the  prince." 

These  are  the  feelings  and  convictions,  very  plain 
and  primitive  in  their  nature,  which  were  shared 
by  the  real  makers  of  America,  and  which  have  ever 
since  controlled  her  real  leaders.  They  are  in  strik 
ing  contrast  with  the  views  expressed  by  some  of  the 
strangers  who  were  sent  out  in  early  times  to  govern 
the  colonies;  as,  for  example,  that  Royal  Governor 
Berkeley  who,  writing  home  to  England  from  Vir 
ginia  in  the  seventeenth  century,  thanked  God  that 
"no  public  schools  nor  printing-presses  existed  in  the 
colony,"  and  added  his  "hope  that  they  would  not  be 
introduced  for  a  hundred  years,  since  learning  brings 
irreligion  and  disobedience  into  the  world,  and  the 
printing-press  disseminates  them  and  fights  against 
the  best  intentions  of  the  government." 

But  this  Governor  Berkeley  was  of  a  different  type 
from  that  Bishop  Berkeley  who  came  to  the  western 
world  to  establish  a  missionary  training-school,  and, 
failing  in  that,  gave  his  real  estate  at  Newport  and  his 

196 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    EDUCATION 

library  of  a  thousand  books  to  the  infant  Yale  College 
at  New  Haven;  of  a  different  type  from  those  Dutch 
colonists  of  New  Amsterdam  who  founded  the  first 
American  public  school  in  1621;  of  a  different  type 
from  those  Puritan  colonists  of  Massachusetts  Bay 
who  established  the  Boston  Latin  School  in  1635  anc^ 
Harvard  College  in  1636;  of  a  different  type  from 
Franklin,  who  founded  the  Philadelphia  Circulating 
Library  in  1731,  the  American  Philosophical  Society 
in  1744,  and  the  Academy  of  Pennsylvania  in  1749; 
of  a  different  type  from  Washington,  who  urged  the 
foundation  of  a  national  university  and  left  property 
for  its  endowment  by  his  last  will  and  testament; 
of  a  different  type  from  Jefferson,  who  desired  to  have 
it  recorded  upon  his  tombstone  that  he  had  rendered 
three  services  to  his  country  —  the  framing  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  the  establishment  of 
religious  liberty  in  Virginia,  and  the  founding  of 
the  University  of  that  State. 

Among  the  men  who  were  most  responsible, 
from  the  beginning,  for  the  rise  and  growth  and  con 
tinuance  of  the  spirit  of  self-reliance  and  fair  play, 
of  active  energy  and  common  order  in  America,  there 
was  hardly  one  who  did  not  frequently  express  his  con 
viction  that  the  spread  of  public  intelligence  was  nec 
essary  to  these  ends.  Among  those  who  have  been 
most  influential  in  the  guidance  of  the  republic, 
nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  their  agreement  in 

197 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

the  opinion  that  education,  popular  and  special,  is 
friendly  to  republican  institutions. 

This  agreement  is  not  a  mere  formal  adherence  to 
an  academic  principle  learned  in  the  same  school. 
For  there  has  been  the  greatest  possible  difference 
in  the  schooling  of  these  men.  Adams,  Jefferson, 
Madison,  Monroe,  Hamilton,  Webster,  Hayes,  Gar- 
field,  Harrison,  Roosevelt,  had  a  college  training; 
Washington,  Franklin,  Marshall,  Jackson,  Van 
Buren,  Clay,  Lincoln,  Cleveland,  McKinley,  did  not. 

The  sincere  respect  for  education  which  is  typical 
of  the  American  spirit  is  not  a  result  of  education. 
It  is  a  matter  of  intuitive  belief,  of  mental  character, 
of  moral  temperament.  First  of  all,  the  sure  convic 
tion  that  every  American  child  ought  to  have  the 
chance  to  go  to  school,  to  learn  to  read,  to  write,  to 
think ;  second,  the  general  notion  that  it  is  both  fair 
and  wise  to  make  an  open  way  for  every  one  who  is 
talented  and  ambitious  to  climb  as  far  as  he  can  and 
will  in  the  higher  education ;  third,  the  vague  feeling 
that  it  will  be  to  the  credit  and  benefit  of  democracy 
not  only  to  raise  the  average  level  of  intelligence,  but 
also  to  produce  men  and  institutions  of  commanding 
excellence  in  learning  and  science  and  philosophy,  — 
these  are  the  three  elements  which  you  will  find 
present  in  varying  degrees  in  the  views  of  typical 
Americans  in  regard  to  education. 

I  say  that  you  will  find  these  elements  in  varying 
198 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

degrees,  because  there  has  been,  and  there  still  is, 
some  divergence  of  opinion  as  to  the  comparative  em 
phasis  to  be  laid  on  these  three  points  —  the  school- 
house  door  open  to  everybody,  the  college  career  open 
to  all  the  talents,  and  the  university  providing  un 
limited  opportunities  for  the  disinterested  pursuit  of 
knowledge. 

Which  is  the  most  important?  How  far  may  the 
State  go  in  promoting  the  higher  education  ?  Is  it 
right  to  use  the  public  funds,  contributed  by  all  the 
taxpayers,  for  the  special  advantage  of  those  who 
have  superior  intellectual  powers  ?  Where  is  the  line 
to  be  drawn  between  the  education  which  fits  a  boy 
for  citizenship,  and  that  which  merely  gratifies  his 
own  tastes  or  promotes  his  own  ambition  ? 

These  are  questions  which  have  been  seriously, 
and,  at  times,  bitterly  debated  in  America.  But, 
meantime,  education  has  gone  steadily  and  rapidly 
forward.  The  little  public  school  of  New  Amsterdam 
has  developed  into  an  enormous  common-school 
system  covering  the  United  States  and  all  their  Terri 
tories.  The  little  Harvard  College  at  Cambridge  has 
become  the  mother  of  a  vast  brood  of  institutions, 
public  and  private,  which  give  all  kinds  of  instruction, 
philosophical,  scientific,  literary,  and  technical,  and 
which  call  themselves  colleges  or  universities  accord 
ing  to  their  own  fancy  and  will. 

A  foreigner  visiting  the  country  for  the  first  time 
199 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

might  well  think  it  had  a  touch  of  academic  mania. 
A  lecturer  invited  to  describe  the  schools  and  colleges 
of  the  United  States  in  a  single  discourse  might  well 
feel  as  embarrassed  as  that  famous  diplomat  to  whom 
his  companion  at  dinner  said,  between  the  soup  and 
the  fish,  "I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you,  for  now  you  can 
tell  me  all  about  the  Far  Eastern  Question  and  make 
me  understand  it."  Let  me  warn  you  against  ex 
pecting  anything  of  that  kind  in  this  lecture.  I  am 
at  least  well  enough  educated  to  know  that  it  is  im 
possible  to  tell  all  about  American  education  in  an 
hour.  The  most  that  I  can  hope  to  do  is  to  touch  on 
three  points :  — 

First,  the  absence  of  centralized  control  and  the 
process  of  practical  unification  in  educational  work 
in  the  United  States. 

Second,  the  growth  and  general  character  of  the 
common  schools  as  an  expression  of  the  Spirit  of 
America. 

Third,  the  relation  of  the  colleges,  universities,  and 
technical  institutes  to  the  life  of  the  republic. 

I.  First,  it  should  be  distinctly  understood  "and 
remembered  that  there  is  absolutely  no  national  system 
of  education  in  America. 

The  government  at  Washington  has  neither  power 
nor  responsibility  in  regard  to  it.  There  is  no  Minis 
try  of  Public  Instruction;  there  are  no  Federal  In 
spectors;  there  is  no  regulation  from  the  centre. 

200 


DEVELOPMENT  AND    EDUCATION 

The  whole  thing  is  local  and  voluntary  to  a  degree 
which  must  seem  to  a  Frenchman  incomprehensible 
if  not  reprehensible.  In  consequence  it  is  both  simple 
and  complicated,  —  simple  in  its  practical  working, 
and  extremely  complicated  in  its  general  aspect. 

The  reasons  for  this  lack  of  a  national  system  and  a 
centralized  control  are  not  far  to  seek.  In  the  first 
place,  at  the  time  when  the  Union  was  formed,  many 
different  European  influences  were  already  at  work 
fostering  different  educational  ideals  in  various  parts 
of  the  country.  No  doubt  the  English  influence  was 
predominant,  especially  in  New  England.  Harvard 
College  at  Cambridge  in  Massachusetts  may  be 
regarded  as  the  legitimate  child  of  Emmanuel 
College  at  Cambridge  in  England.  But  the  develop 
ment  of  free  common  schools,  especially  in  the  Middle 
States,  was  more  largely  affected  by  the  example  of 
Holland,  France,  and  Switzerland  than  by  England. 
The  Presbyterians  of  New  Jersey,  when  they  founded 
Princeton  College  in  1746,  naturally  turned  to  Scot 
land  for  a  model. 

In  Virginia,  through  Thomas  Jefferson,  a  strong 
French  influence  was  felt.  A  Frenchman,  Quesnay, 
who  had  fought  in  the  American  army  of  the  Revolu 
tion,  proposed  to  establish  a  National  Academy  of 
Arts  and  Sciences  in  Richmond,  with  branches  at 
Baltimore,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York,  to  give 
advanced  instruction  in  all  branches  of  human 

2OI 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

learning.  He  had  the  approval  of  many  of  the  best 
people  in  France  and  Virginia,  and  succeeded  in 
raising  60,000  francs  towards  the  endowment.  The 
corner-stone  of  a  building  was  laid,  and  one  professor 
was  chosen.  But  the  scheme  failed,  because,  in  1786, 
both  America  and  France  were  busy  and  poor. 
Jefferson's  plan  for  the  University  of  Virginia,  which 
was  framed  on  French  lines,  was  put  into  successful 
operation  in  1825. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  at  any  time  in  the 
early  history  of  the  United  States  —  indeed,  I  think 
it  would  be  impossible  now  —  to  get  a  general  agree 
ment  among  the  friends  of  education  in  regard  to  the 
form  and  method  of  a  national  system. 

Another  obstacle  to  a  national  system  was  the 
fact  that  the  colleges  founded  before  the  Revolu 
tion  —  William  and  Mary,  Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton, 
Columbia  —  were  practically  supported  and  con 
trolled  by  different  churches  —  Congregational,  Pres 
byterian,  or  Episcopalian.  Churches  are  not  easy  to 
combine. 

Still  another  obstacle,  and  a  more  important  one, 
was  the  sentiment  of  local  independence,  the  spirit  of 
home  rule  which  played  such  a  prominent  part  in  the 
mise  en  seine  of  the  American  drama.  Each  of  the 
distinct  States  composing  the  Union  was  tenacious  of 
its  own  individuality,  and  jealous  of  the  local  rights 
by  which  alone  that  individuality  could  be  preserved. 
202 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    EDUCATION 

The  most  significant  and  potent  of  these  rights  was 
that  of  educating  the  children  and  youth  of  the 
community. 

The  States  which  entered  the  Union  later  brought 
with  them  the  same  feeling  of  local  pride  and  respon 
sibility.  Ohio  with  its  New  England  traditions, 
Kentucky  with  its  Southern  traditions,  Michigan 
with  its  large  infusion  of  French  blood  and  thought, 
Wisconsin  with  its  vigorous  German  and  Scandi 
navian  element,  —  each  of  these  communities  felt 
competent  and  in  honour  bound  to  attend  to  its  own 
educational  affairs.  So  far  as  the  establishment  and 
control  of  schools,  colleges,  and  universities  is  con 
cerned,  every  State  of  the  Union  is  legally  as  indepen 
dent  of  all  the  other  States  as  if  they  were  separate 
European  countries  like  France  and  Germany  and 
Switzerland.  Therefore,  we  may  say  that  the  Ameri 
can  system  of  education  is  not  to  have  a  system. 

But  if  we  stop  here,  we  rest  upon  one  of  those  half- 
truths  which  are  so  dear  to  the  pessimist  and  the 
satirist.  The  bare  statement  that  there  is  no  national 
system  of  education  in  America  by  no  means  ex 
hausts  the  subject.  Taken  by  itself,  it  gives  a  false 
impression.  Abstract  theory  and  formal  regulation 
are  not  the  only  means  of  unification.  Nature  and 
human  nature  have  their  own  secrets  for  creating 
unity  in  diversity.  This  is  the  process  which  has  been 
at  work  in  American  education. 

203 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

First  of  all,  there  has  been  a  general  agreement 
among  the  States  in  regard  to  the  vital  necessity 
of  education  in  a  republic.  The  constitution  of 
Massachusetts,  adopted  in  1780,  reads  thus:  "Wis 
dom  and  knowledge,  as  well  as  virtue,  diffused  gener 
ally  among  the  people,  being  necessary  for  the 
preservation  of  their  rights  and  liberties ;  a.nd  as  these 
depend  on  spreading  the  opportunities  and  advan 
tages  of  education  in  the  various  parts  of  the  country, 
and  among  the  different  orders  of  the  people,  it  shall 
be  the  duty  of  legislatures  and  magistrates,  in  all 
future  periods  of  this  Commonwealth,  to  cherish  the 
interests  of  literature  and  the  sciences,  and  all  semi 
naries  of  them,  especially  the  university  at  Cambridge, 
public  schools,  and  grammar  schools  in  the  towns ;  to 
encourage  private  societies  and  public  institutions, 
rewards  and  immunities,  for  the  promotion  of  agricul 
ture,  arts,  sciences,  commerce,  trades,  manufactures, 
and  a  natural  history  of  the  country ;  to  countenance 
and  inculcate  the  principles  of  humanity  and  general 
benevolence,  public  and  private  charity,  industry  and 
frugality,  honesty  and  punctuality,  in  their  dealings, 
sincerity,  good  humour,  and  all  social  affections  and 
generous  sentiments  among  the  people."  After  such 
a  sentence,  one  needs  to  take  breath.  It  is  a  full 
programme  of  American  idealism,  written  in  the 
English  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when  people  had 
plenty  of  time.  The  new  constitution  of  North 
204 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

Carolina  adopted  in  1868  puts  the  same  idea  in  terse 
modern  style:  "The  people  have  the  right  to  the 
privilege  of  education,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  the  State 
to  guard  and  maintain  that  right."  You  will  find 
the  same  principle  expressed  in  the  constitutions  of 
all  the  American  commonwealths. 

In  the  next  place,  the  friendly  competition  and 
rivalry  among  the  States  produced  a  tendency  to 
unity  in  education.  No  State  wished  to  be  left  be 
hind.  The  Southern  States,  which  for  a  long  time 
had  neglected  the  matter  of  free  common  schools, 
were  forced  by  the  growth  of  illiteracy,  after  the 
Civil  War,  to  provide  for  the  schooling  of  all  their 
children  at  public  expense.  The  Western  States,  com 
ing  into  the  Union  one  by  one,  had  a  feeling  of  pride 
in  offering  to  their  citizens  facilities  for  education 
which  should  be  at  least  equal  to  those  offered  in 
"the  effete  East."  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  most 
flourishing  State  Universities  now  are  west  of  the 
Alleghanies.  The  only  States  which  have  more  than 
90  per  cent  of  the  children  from  five  to  eighteen  years 
of  age  enrolled  in  the  common  schools  are  Colorado, 
Nevada,  Idaho,  and  Washington,  —  all  in  the  far 
West. 

Furthermore,  the  free  intercourse  and  exchange  of 

population  between  the  States  have  made  for  unity 

in    the    higher    education.     Methods  which  have 

proved  successful  in  one  community  have  been  imi- 

205 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

tated  and  adopted  in  others.  Experiments  tried  at 
Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton,  or  Columbia  have  been 
repeated  in  the  West  and  South.  Teachers  trained  in 
the  older  colleges  have  helped  to  organize  and  develop 
the  new  ones. 

Nor  has  this  process  of  assimilation  been  confined 
to  American  ideas  and  models.  European  methods 
have  been  carefully  studied  and  adapted  to  the  needs 
and  conditions  of  the  United  States.  I  happen  to 
know  of  a  new  Institute  of  Technology  which  has 
been  recently  founded  in  Texas  by  a  gift  of  eight 
millions  of  dollars.  The  president-elect  is  a  scientific 
man  who  has  already  studied  in  France  and  Germany 
and  achieved  distinction  in  his  department.  But 
before  he  touches  the  building  and  organization  of  his 
new  Institute,  he  is  sent  to  Europe  for  a  year  to  see  the 
oldest  and  the  newest  and  the  best  that  has  been  done 
there.  In  fact,  the  Republic  of  Learning  to-day  is  the 
true  Cosmopolis.  It  knows  no  barriers  of  nationality. 
It  seeks  truth  and  wisdom  everywhere,  and  wher 
ever  it  finds  them,  it  claims  them  for  its  own. 

The  spirit  of  voluntary  cooperation  for  the  promo 
tion  of  the  common  order,  of  which  I  spoke  in  a  pre 
vious  lecture,  has  made  itself  felt  in  education  by  the 
formation  of  Teachers'  Associations  in  the  various 
States,  and  groups  of  States,  and  by  the  foundation 
of  the  National  Educational  Association,  a  voluntary 
body  incorporated  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  "to 

206 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

elevate  the  character  and  advance  the  interests  of  the 
profession  of  teaching,  and  to  promote  the  cause  of 
education  in  the  United  States." 

Finally,  while  there  is  no  national  centre  of  authority 
for  education  in  the  United  States,  there  is  a  strong 
central  force  of  encouragement  and  enlightenment. 
The  Federal  Government  shows  its  interest  in 
education  in  several  ways:  First,  in  the  enormous 
grants  of  public  lands  which  it  has  made  from  the 
beginning  for  the  endowment  of  common  schools 
and  higher  institutions  in  the  various  States. 

Second,  in  the  control  and  support  of  the  United 
States  Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  the  Naval 
Academy  at  Annapolis,  the  Indian  Schools,  the 
National  Museum,  and  the  Congressional  Library, 
and  in  the  provision  which  it  makes  for  agri 
cultural  and  mechanical  schools  in  different  parts 
of  the  country.  The  annual  budget  for  these  pur 
poses  runs  from  twelve  to  twenty  millions  of  dollars 
a  year. 

Third,  in  the  establishment  of  a  National  Bureau 
of  Education  which  collects  statistics  and  information 
and  distributes  reports  on  all  subjects  connected  with 
the  educational  interests  of  America.  The  Com 
missioner  at  the  head  of  this  bureau  is  a  man  of  high 
standing  and  scholarship.  He  is  chosen  without 
reference  to  politics,  and  holds  his  office  independent 
of  party.  He  has  no  authority  to  make  appointments 

207 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

or  regulations.  But  he  has  a  large  influence,  through 
the  light  which  he  throws  upon  the  actual  condition  of 
education,  in  promoting  the  gradual  and  inevitable 
process  of  unification. 

Let  me  try  to  sum  up  what  I  have  been  saying  on 
this  difficult  subject  of  the  lack  of  system  and  the 
growth  of  unity  in  American  education.    There  is 
no  organization  from  the  centre.     But  there  is  a  dis 
tinct  organization  from  the  periphery,  —  if  I  may  use 
a  scientific  metaphor  of  such  an  unscientific  character. 
/  The  formative  principle  is  the  development  of  the 
I    individual. 

What,  then,  does  the  average  American  boy  find 
in  this  country  to  give  him  a  series  of  successive  oppor 
tunities  to  secure  this  personal  development  of  mental 
and  moral  powers  ? 

First,  a  public  primary  school  and  grammar  school 
which  will  give  him  the  rudiments  of  learning  from 
his  sixth  to  his  fourteenth  year.  Then  a  public 
high  school  which  will  give  him  about  what  a  French 
lycie  gives  from  his  fourteenth  to  his  eighteenth  year. 
He  is  now  ready  to  enter  the  higher  education.  Up 
to  this  point,  if  he  lives  in  a  town  of  any  considerable 
size,  he  has  not  been  obliged  to  go  away  from  home. 
Many  of  the  smaller  places  of  three  or  four  thousand 
inhabitants  have  good  high  schools.  If  he  lives  in  the 
country,  he  may  have  had  to  go  to  the  nearest  city  or 
large  town  for  his  high  school  or  academy. 

208 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

Beyond  this  point,  he  finds  either  a  college,  as  it  is 
called  in  America,  or  the  collegiate  department  in  one 
of  the  universities,  which  will  give  him  a  four  years* 
course  of  general  study.  Before  he  can  begin  this, 
he  must  pass  what  is  called  an  entrance  examination, 
which  is  practically  uniform  in  all  the  better  institu 
tions,  and  almost,  but  perhaps  not  quite,  equivalent 
to  the  examination  in  France  for  the  degree  of  bache- 
lier.  Thus  a  certain  standard  of  preparation  is  set 
for  all  the  secondary  schools.  It  is  at  the  end  of  his 
general  course  in  literature,  science,  and  philosophy 
that  the  American  student  gets  his  bachelor's  de 
gree,  which  corresponds  pretty  nearly  to  the  French 
degree  of  licencU  in  letters  and  sciences. 

Now  the  student,  a  young  man  of  about  twenty-one 
or  twenty-two  years,  is  supposed  to  be  prepared, 
either  to  go  into  the  world  as  a  fairly  well-educated 
citizen,  or  to  continue  his  studies  for  a  professional 
career.  He  finds  the  graduate  schools  of  the  uni 
versities  ready  to  give  him  courses  which  lead  to  the 
degree  of  M.A.  or  Ph.D.,  and  prepare  him  for  the 
higher  kind  of  teaching.  The  schools  of  law  and 
medicine  and  engineering  offer  courses  of  from  two 
to  four  years  with  a  degree  of  LL.B.  or  M.D.  or  C.E. 
or  M.E.  at  the  end  of  them.  The  theological  semi 
naries  are  ready  to  instruct  him  for  the  service  of  the 
church  in  a  course  of  three  or  four  years. 

By  this  time  he  is  twenty-four  or  twenty-five  years 
p  209 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

old.  Unless  he  has  special  ambitions  which  lead  him 
to  study  abroad,  or  to  take  up  original  research  at 
Johns  Hopkins,  Harvard,  Columbia,  Cornell,  or  some 
other  specially  equipped  university,  he  is  now  ready 
for  practical  work.  The  American  theory  is  that  he 
should  go  to  work  and  get  the  rest  of  his  education 
in  practice. 

Of  course  there  have  been  short  cuts  and  irregular 
paths  open  to  him  all  along  the  way,  —  a  short  cut 
from  the  high  school  to  the  technical  school,  —  a 
short  cut  into  law  or  medicine  by  the  way  of  private 
preparation  for  the  examination,  which  in  some 
States  is  absurdly  low.  But  these  short  cuts  are 
being  closed  up  very  rapidly.  It  is  growing  more  and 
more  difficult  to  get  into  a  first-class  professional 
school  without  a  collegiate  or  university  degree. 
Already,  if  the  American  student  wants  system  and 
regularity,  he  can  get  a  closely  articulated  course, 
fitted  to  his  individual  needs,  from  the  primary  school 
up  to  the  door  of  his  profession. 

But  the  real  value  of  that  course  depends  upon 
two  things  that  are  beyond  the  power  of  any  system 
to  insure — the  personal  energy  that  he  brings  to  his 
work,  and  the  personal  power  of  the  professors  under 
whom  he  studies.  I  suppose  the  same  thing  is  true 
in  France  as  in  America.  Neither  here  nor  there  can 
you  find  equality  of  results.  All  you  have  a  right  to 
expect  is  equality  of  opportunity. 
210 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

II.  The  great  symbol  and  instrument  of  this  idea 
of  equal  opportunity  in  the  United  States  is  the  com 
mon  school.  In  every  State  of  the  Union  provision 
is  made  for  the  education  of  the  children  at  public 
expense.  The  extent  and  quality  of  this  education, 
the  methods  of  control,  the  standards  of  equipment, 
even  the  matter  of  compulsory  or  voluntary  attend 
ance,  vary  in  different  States  and  communities. 
But,  as  a  rule,  you  may  say  that  it  puts  within  the 
reach  of  every  boy  and  girl  free  instruction  from  the 
a-b-c  up  to  the  final  grade  of  a  lycee. 

The  money  expended  by  the  States  on  these 
common  schools  in  1905-1906  was  $307,765,000,  — 
more  than  one-third  of  the  annual  expenditure  of  the 
national  government  for  all  purposes,  more  than 
twice  as  much  as  the  State  governments  spent  for 
all  other  purposes.  This  sum,  you  understand,  was 
raised  by  direct,  local  taxation.  Neither  the  import 
duties  nor  the  internal  revenue  contributed  anything 
to  it.  It  came  directly  from  the  citizen's  pocket,  at 
the  rate  of  $3.66  a  year  per  capita,  or  nearly  $13  a 
year  for  every  grown-up  man. 

How  many  children  were  benefited  by  it?  Who 
can  tell?  16,600,000  boys  and  girls  were  enrolled  in 
the  public  schools  (that  is  to  say,  more  than  70  per 
cent  of  the  whole  number  of  children  between  five 
and  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  about  20  per  cent  of 
the  total  population) .  The  teachers  employed  were 
211 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

109,000  men,  356,000  women.  The  average  daily 
expenditure  for  each  pupil  was  17  cents;  the  average 
annual  expenditure,  about  $25. 

In  addition  to  this  number  there  are  at  least  1,500,- 
ooo  children  in  privately  endowed  and  supported 
schools,  secular  or  religious.  The  Catholic  Church 
has  a  system  of  parochial  schools  which  is  said  to 
provide  for  about  a  million  children.  Many  of  the 
larger  Protestant  Churches  support  high  schools  and 
academies  of  excellent  quality.  Some  of  the  most 
famous  secondary  schools,  like  Phillips  Exeter  and 
Andover,  St.  Paul's,  the  Hill  School,  Lawrenceville 
School,  are  private  foundations  well  endowed. 

These  figures  do  not  mean  much  to  the  imagi 
nation.  Statistics  are  like  grapes  in  their  skins. 
You  have  to  put  a  pressure  upon  them  to  extract  any 
wine.  Observe,  then,  that  if  you  walked  through  an 
American  town  between  eight  and  nine  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  passed  a  thousand  people  indoors  and  out, 
more  than  two  hundred  of  them  would  be  children 
going  to  school.  Perhaps  twenty  of  these  children 
would  turn  in  at  private  schools,  or  church  schools. 
But  nine-tenths  of  the  little  crowd  would  be  on  their 
way  to  the  public  schools.  The  great  majority  of 
the  children  would  be  under  fourteen  years  of  age; 
for  only  about  one  child  out  of  every  twenty  goes  be 
yond  that  point  in  schooling.  Among  the  younger 
children  the  boys  would  outnumber  the  girls  a 

212 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

little.  But  in  the  small  group  of  high-school  children 
there  would  be  three  girls  to  two  boys,  because  the 
boys  have  to  go  to  work  earlier  to  earn  a  living. 

Suppose  you  followed  one  of  these  groups  of  chil 
dren  into  the  school,  what  would  you  find?  That 
would  depend  entirely  upon  local  circumstances. 
You  might  find  a  splendid  building  with  modern 
fittings;  you  might  find  an  old-fashioned  building, 
overcrowded  and  ill-fitted.  Each  State,  as  I  have 
said  before,  has  its  own  common-school  system. 
And  not  only  so,  but  within  the  State  there  are  smaller 
units  of  organization  —  the  county,  the  township,  the 
school  district.  Each  of  these  may  have  its  own 
school  board,  conservative  or  progressive,  generous 
or  stingy,  and  the  quality  and  equipment  of  the 
schools  will  vary  accordingly.  They  represent  pretty 
accurately  the  general  enlightenment  and  moral 
tone  of  the  community. 

Wealth  has  something  to  do  with  it,  of  course. 
People  cannot  spend  money  unless  they  have  it. 
The  public  treasury  is  not  a  Fortunatus'  purse  which 
fills  itself.  In  the  remote  country  districts,  the  little 
red  schoolhouse,  with  its  single  room,  its  wooden 
benches,  its  iron  stove,  its  unpainted  flagstaff,  stands 
on  some  hill-top  without  a  tree  to  shadow  it,  in  brave, 
unblushing  poverty.  In  the  richer  cities  there  are 
common  school  palaces  with  an  aspect  of  splendour 
which  is  almost  disconcerting. 

213 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Yet  it  is  not  altogether  a  question  of  wealth.  It  is 
also  a  question  of  public  spirit.  Baltimore  is  nearly 
as  large  and  half  as  rich  as  Boston,  yet  Boston  spends 
about  three  times  as  much  on  her  schools.  Rich 
mond  has  about  the  same  amount  of  taxable  property 
as  Rochester,  N.Y.,  yet  Richmond  spends  only  one- 
quarter  as  much  on  her  schools.  Houston,  Texas; 
Wilmington,  Delaware;  Harrisburg,  Pennsylvania; 
Trenton,  New  Jersey ;  New  Bedford,  Massachusetts ; 
and  Des  Moines,  Iowa,  are  six  cities  with  a  population 
of  from  80,000  to  100,000  each,  and  not  far  apart  in 
wealth.  But  their  public-school  bills  in  1906  varied 
as  follows:  Des  Moines,  $492,000;  New  Bedford, 
$472,000;  Harrisburg,  $304,000;  Trenton,  $300,- 
ooo ;  Wilmington,  $226,000;  and  Houston,  the 
richest  of  the  six,  $163,000. 

If  you  should  judge  from  this  that  the  public 
schools  are  most  liberally  supported  in  the  North 
Atlantic,  North  Central,  and  Far  Western  States, 
you  would  be  right.  The  amount  that  is  con 
tributed  to  the  common  schools  per  adult  male  in 
habitant  is  largest  in  the  following  States  in  order: 
Utah,  $22;  North  Dakota,  $21;  New  York,  $20; 
Colorado,  $20;  Massachusetts,  $19;  South  Dakota, 
$19;  Nebraska,  $17;  and  Pennsylvania,  $16.  The 
comparative  weakness  of  the  common  schools  in  the 
South  Atlantic  and  South  Central  States  has  led  to  the 
giving  of  large  sums  of  money  by  private  benevolence, 

214 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    EDUCATION 

the  Peabody  Fund,  the  Slater  Fund,  the  Southern 
Education  Fund,  which  are  administered  by  boards 
of  trustees  for  the  promotion  of  education  in 
these  backward  regions.  The  Spirit  of  America 
strongly  desires  to  spread,  to  improve,  to  equalize 
and  coordinate,  the  public  schools  of  the  whole 
country. 

Is  it  succeeding?  What  lines  is  it  following? 
Where  are  the  changes  most  apparent? 

First  of  all,  there  is  a  marked  advance  in  the  physi 
cal  equipment  of  the  common  school.  In  the  villages 
and  in  the  rural  districts  the  new  buildings  are  larger 
and  more  commodious  than  the  old  ones.  In  many 
parts  of  the  country  the  method  of  concentration  is 
employed.  Instead  of  half  a  dozen  poor  little  school- 
houses  scattered  over  the  hills,  one  good  house  is  built 
in  a  central  location,  and  the  children  are  gathered 
from  the  farmhouses  by  school  omnibuses  or  by 
the  electric  trolley-cars.  Massachusetts  made  a  law 
in  1894  requiring  every  township  which  did  not  have 
a  high  school  to  pay  the  transportation  expenses  of  all 
qualified  pupils  who  wished  to  attend  the  high  schools 
of  neighbouring  towns. 

In  many  States  text-books  are  provided  at  the 
public  cost.  In  the  cities  the  increased  attention  to 
the  physical  side  of  things  is  even  more  noticeable. 
No  expense  is  spared  to  make  the  new  buildings 
attractive  and  convenient.  Libraries  and  laboratories, 

2I5 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

gymnasiums  and  toilet-rooms,  are  provided.     In  some 
cities  a  free  lunch  is  given  to  the  pupils. 

The  school  furniture  is  of  the  latest  and  most 
approved  pattern.  The  old  idea  of  the  adjustable 
child  who  could  be  fitted  to  any  kind  of  a  seat  or  desk, 
has  given  way  to  the  new  idea  of  the  adjustable  seat 
and  desk  which  can  be  fitted  to  any  kind  of  a  child. 
School  doctors  are  employed  to  make  a  physical  ex 
amination  of  the  children.  In  a  few  cities  there  are 
school  nurses  to  attend  to  the  pupils  who  are  slightly 
ailing. 

Physical  culture,  in  the  form  of  calisthenics,  mili 
tary  drill,  gymnastics,  is  introduced.  Athletic  organi 
zations,  foot-ball  clubs,  base-ball  clubs,  are  encour 
aged  among  the  boys.  In  every  way  the  effort  is 
apparent  to  make  school  life  attractive,  more  com 
fortable,  more  healthful. 

Some  critics  say  that  the  effort  is  excessive,  that  it 
spoils  and  softens  the  children,  that  it  has  distracted 
their  attention  from  the  serious  business  of  hard  study. 
I  do  not  know.  It  is  difficult  for  a  man  to  remember 
just  how  serious  he  was  when  he  was  a  boy.  Perhaps 
the  modern  common-school  pupil  is  less  Spartan 
and  resolute  than  his  father  used  to  be.  Perhaps 
not.  Pictures  on  the  wall  and  flowers  in  the  window, 
gymnastics  and  music,  may  not  really  distract  the 
attention  more  than  uncomfortable  seats  and  bad 
ventilation. 

216 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

Another  marked  tendency  in  the  American  com 
mon  school,  at  least  in  the  large  towns  and  cities, 
is  the  warm,  one  might  almost  say  feverish,  interest 
in  new  courses  and  methods  of  study.  In  the  pri 
mary  schools  this  shows  itself  chiefly  in  the  introduc 
tion  of  new  ways  of  learning  to  spell  and  to  cipher. 
The  alphabet  and  the  multiplication  table  are  no 
longer  regarded  as  necessities.  The  phonetic  pupil 
is  almost  in  danger  of  supposing  that  reading,  writing, 
and  arithmetic  are  literally  "the  three  r's."  Hours 
are  given  to  nature-study,  object-lessons,  hygiene. 
Children  of  tender  years  are  instructed  in  the  mys 
teries  of  the  digestive  system.  The  range  of  mental 
effort  is  immensely  diversified. 

In  the  high  schools  the  increase  of  educational 
novelties  is  even  more  apparent.  The  courses  are 
multiplied  and  divided.  Elective  studies  are  offered 
in  large  quantity.  I  take  an  example  from  the  pro 
gramme  of  a  Western  high  school.  The  studies 
required  of  all  pupils  are :  English,  history,  algebra, 
plane  geometry,  biology,  physics,  and  Shakespeare. 
The  studies  offered  for  a  choice  are :  psychology,  ethics, 
commercial  law,  civics,  economics,  arithmetic,  book 
keeping,  higher  algebra,  solid  geometry,  trigonometry, 
penmanship,  phonography,  drawing  and  the  history 
of  art,  chemistry,  Latin,  German,  French,  Spanish, 
and  Greek.  This  is  quite  a  rich  intellectual  bill  of 
fare  for  boys  and  girls  between  fourteen  and  eighteen 
217 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

years  old.  It  seems  almost  encyclopaedic,  —  though 
I  miss  a  few  subjects  like  Sanskrit,  Egyptology, 
photography,  and  comparative  religions. 

The  fact  is  that  in  the  American  high  schools, 
as  in  the  French  lycees,  the  effort  to  enlarge  and 
vary  the  curriculum  by  introducing  studies  which  are 
said  to  be  "urgently  required  by  modern  conditions" 
has  led  to  considerable  confusion  of  educational 
ideals.  But  with  us,  while  the  extremes  are  worse, 
owing  to  the  lack  of  the  central  control,  the  disorder 
is  less  universal,  because  the  conservative  schools 
have  been  free  to  adhere  to  a  simpler  programme.  It 
is  a  good  thing,  no  doubt,  that  the  rigidity  of  the  old 
system,  which  made  every  pupil  go  through  the  same 
course  of  classics  and  mathematics,  has  been  relaxed. 
But  our  danger  now  lies  in  the  direction  of  using  our 
schools  to  fit  boys  and  girls  to  make  a  living,  rather 
than  to  train  them  in  a  sound  and  vigorous  intellectual 
life.  For  this  latter  purpose  it  is  not  true  that  all 
branches  of  study  are  of  equal  value.  Some  are 
immensely  superior.  We  want  not  the  widest  range, 
but  the  best  selection. 

There  are  some  points  in  which  the  public  schools 
of  America,  so  far  as  one  can  judge  from  the  general 
reports,  are  inferior  to  those  of  France.  One  of 
these  points,  naturally,  is  in  the  smooth  working  that 
comes  from  uniformity  and  coordination.  Another 
point,  strangely  enough,  is  in  the  careful  provision 

218 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

for  moral  instruction  in  the  primary  schools.  At  least 
in  the  programmes  of  the  French  schools,  much  more 
time  and  attention  are  given  to  this  than  in  the 
American  programmes. 

Another  point  of  inferiority  in  the  United  States  is 
in  the  requirement  of  proper  preparation  and  certifi 
cation  of  all  teachers ;  and  still  another  is  in  the 
security  of  their  tenure  of  office  and  the  length  of 
their  service  in  the  profession.  The  teaching  force 
of  the  American  schools  is  a  noble  army;  but  it 
would  be  more  efficient  if  the  regular  element  were 
larger  in  proportion  to  the  volunteers.  The  person 
nel  changes  too  often. 

One  reason  for  this,  no  doubt,  is  the  fact  that  the 
women  outnumber  the  men  by  three  to  one.  Not 
that  the  women  are  poorer  teachers.  Often,  espe 
cially  in  primary  work,  they  are  the  best.  But  their 
average  term  of  professional  service  is  not  over  four 
years.  They  are  interrupted  by  that  great  accident, 
matrimony,  which  invites  a  woman  to  stop  teaching, 
and  a  man  to  continue. 

The  shortage  of  male  teachers,  which  exists  in  so 
many  countries,  is  felt  in  extreme  form  in  the  United 
States.  Efforts  are  made  to  remedy  it  by  the  increase 
of  normal  schools  and  teachers'  colleges,  and  by  a 
closer  connection  between  the  universities  and  the 
public-school  system. 

In  the  conduct  and  development  of  the  common 
219 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

schools  we  see  the  same  voluntary,  experimental, 
pragmatic  way  of  doing  things  that  is  so  characteristic 
of  the  Spirit  of  America  in  every  department  of  life. 
"Education,"  say  the  Americans,  "is  desirable, 
profitable,  and  necessary.  The  best  way  for  us  to  get 
it  is  to  work  it  out  for  ourselves.  It  must  be  practi 
cally  adapted  to  the  local  conditions  of  each  commu 
nity,  and  to  the  personal  needs  of  the  individual.  The 
being  of  the  child  must  be  the  centre  of  development. 
What  we  want  to  do  is  to  make  good  citizens  for 
American  purposes.  Liberty  must  be  the  foundation, 
unity  the  superstructure." 

This,  upon  the  whole,  is  what  the  common  schools 
are  doing  for  the  United  States :  Three-fourths  of  the 
children  of  the  country  (boys  and  girls  studying  to 
gether  from  their  sixth  to  their  eighteenth  year)  are 
in  them.  They  are  immensely  democratic.  They 
are  stronger  in  awakening  the  mind  than  in  train 
ing  it.  They  do  more  to  stimulate  quick  perception 
than  to  cultivate  sound  judgment  and  correct  taste. 
Their  principles  are  always  good,  their  manners  some 
times.  Universal  knowledge  is  their  foible ;  activity 
is  their  temperament ;  energy  and  sincerity  are  their 
virtues;  superficiality  is  their  defect. 

Candour  compels  me  to  add  one  more  touch  to 
this  thumb-nail  sketch  of  the  American  common 
school.  The  children  of  the  rich,  the  socially  promi 
nent,  the  higher  classes,  if  you  choose  to  call  them  so, 
220 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

are  not  generally  found  in  the  public  schools.  At 
least  in  the  East  and  the  South,  most  of  these  children 
are  educated  in  private  schools  and  academies. 

One  cause  of  this  is  mere  fashion.  But  there  are 
two  other  causes  which  may  possibly  deserve  to  be 
called  reasons,  good  or  bad. 

The  first  is  the  fear  that  coeducation,  instead  of 
making  the  boys  refined  and  the  girls  hardy,  as  it  is 
claimed,  may  effeminate  the  boys  and  roughen  the  girls. 

The  second  is  the  wish  to  secure  more  thorough 
and  personal  teaching  in  smaller  classes.  This  the 
private  schools  offer,  usually  at  a  high  price.  In  the 
older  universities  and  colleges,  a  considerable  part, 
if  not  the  larger  number,  of  the  student  body,  comes 
from  private  preparatory  schools  and  academies. 
Yet  it  must  be  noted  that  of  the  men  who  take  high 
honours  in  scholarship  a  steadily  increasing  number, 
already  a  majority,  are  graduates  of  the  free  public 
high  schools. 

This  proves  what?  That  the  State  can  give  the 
best  if  it  wants  to.  That  it  is  much  more  likely  to 
want  to  do  so  if  it  is  enlightened,  stimulated,  and 
guided  by  the  voluntary  effort  of  the  more  intelligent 
part  of  the  community. 

III.  This  brings  me  to  the  last  division  of  the 
large  subject  around  which  I  have  been  hastily  cir 
cling:  the  institutions  of  higher  education, — univer 
sities,  colleges,  and  technological  schools.  Remem- 

221 


THE    SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

her  that  in  America  these  different  names  are  used 
with  bewildering  freedom.  They  are  not  definitions, 
nor  even  descriptions;  they  are  simply  "tags."  A 
school  of  arts  and  trades,  a  school  of  modern  lan 
guages,  may  call  itself  a  university.  An  institution 
of  liberal  studies,  with  professional  departments  and 
graduate  schools  attached  to  it,  may  call  itself  a 
college.  The  size  and  splendour  of  the  label  does  not 
determine  the  value  of  the  wine  in  the  bottle.  The 
significance  of  an  academic  degree  in  America  depends 
not  on  the  name,  but  on  the  quality,  of  the  institution 
that  confers  it. 

But,  generally  speaking,  you  may  understand  that  a 
college  is  an  institution  which  gives  a  four  years'  course 
in  liberal  arts  and  sciences,  for  which  four  years  of 
academic  preparation  are  required :  a  university  adds 
to  this,  graduate  courses,  and  one  or  more  professional 
schools  of  law,  medicine,  engineering,  divinity,  or 
pedagogy;  a  technological  school  is  one  in  which 
the  higher  branches  of  the  applied  arts  and  sciences 
are  the  chief  subjects  of  study  and  in  which  only 
scientific  degrees  are  conferred. 

Of  these  three  kinds  of  institutions,  622  reported 
to  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Education  in  1906: 
158  were  for  men  only;  129  were  for  women  only; 
335  were  coeducational.  The  number  of  professors 
and  instructors  was  24,000.  The  number  of  under 
graduate  and  resident  graduate  students  was  136,000. 

222 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    EDUCATION 

The  income  of  these  institutions  for  the  year  was 
$40,000,000,  of  which  a  little  less  than  half  came 
from  tuition  fees,  and  a  little  more  than  half 
from  gifts  and  endowments.  The  value  of  the  real 
estate  and  equipment  was  about  $280,000,000,  and 
the  invested  funds  for  endowment  amounted  to 
$236,000,000. 

These  are  large  figures.  But  they  do  not  convey 
any  very  definite  idea  to  the  mind,  until  we  begin  to 
investigate  them  and  ask  what  they  mean.  How 
did  this  enormous  enterprise  of  higher  education 
come  into  being?  Who  supports  it?  What  is  it 
doing? 

There  are  three  ways  in  which  the  colleges  and 
universities  of  America  have  originated  ^hey 
have  been  founded  by  the  churches  to  "provide  a 
learned  and  godly  ministry,  and  to  promote  knowl 
edge  and  sound  intelligence  in  the  community." 
They  have  been  endowed  by  private  and  personal 
gifts  and  benefactions.  They  have  been  established 
by  States,  and  in  a  few  cases  by  cities,  to  complete 
and  crown  the  common-school  system. 

But  note  that  in  the  course  of  time  important 
changes  have  occurred.  Most  of  the  older  and 
larger  universities  which  were  at  first  practically  sup 
ported  and  controlled  by  churches,  have  now  become 
independent  and  are  maintained  by  non-sectarian 
support.  The  institutions  which  remain  under  con- 

223 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

trol  of  churches  are  the  smaller  colleges,  the  majority 
of  which  were  established  between  1810  and  1870. 

The  universities  established  by  a  large  gift  or 
bequest  from  a  single  person,  of  which  Johns  Hopkins 
in  Maryland,  Leland  Stanford  in  California,  and 
Chicago  University  founded  by  the  head  of  the 
Standard  Oil  Company,  may  be  taken  as  examples, 
are  of  comparatively  recent  origin.  Their  imme 
diate  command  of  large  wealth  has  enabled  them 
to  do  immense  things  quickly.  Chicago  is  called  by 
a  recent  writer  "a  University  by  enchantment." 

In  the  foundation  of  State  universities  the  South 
pointed  the  way  with  the  Universities  of  Tennessee 
North  Carolina,  and  Georgia,  at  the  end  of  the  eigh 
teenth  century.     But  since  that  time  the  West  has 
distinctly  taken  the  lead.     Out  of  the  twenty-nine 
colleges  and  universities  which  report  an  enrolmenv 
of   over   a   thousand    undergraduate  and  graduate 
students,  sixteen  are  State  institutions,  and  fourteen 
of  these  are  west  of  the  Alleghanies. 

It  is  in  these  State  universities,  especially  in  the 
Middle  West,  in  Michigan,  Wisconsin,  Illinois, 
Minnesota,  Iowa,  that  you  will  see  the  most  remark 
able  illustration  of  that  thirst  for  knowledge,  that 
ambition  for  personal  development,  which  is  charac 
teristic  of  the  Spirit  of  Young  America. 

The  thousands  of  sons  and  daughters  of  farmers, 
mechanics,  and  tradesmen,  who  flock  to  these  institu- 
224 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

tions,  are  full  of  eagerness  and  hope.  They  are  no 
respecters  of  persons,  but  they  have  a  tremendous 
faith  in  the  power  of  education.  They  all  expect  to 
succeed  in  getting  it,  and  to  succeed  in  life  by  means 
of  it.  They  are  alert,  inquisitive,  energetic ;  in  their 
work  strenuous,  and  in  their  play  enthusiastic. 
They  diffuse  around  them  an  atmosphere  of  joyous  en 
deavour,  —  a  nervous,  electric,  rude,  and  bracing  air. 
They  seem  irreverent;  but  for  the  most  part  they  are 
only  intensely  earnest  and  direct.  They  pursue  their 
private  aim  with  intensity.  They  "want  to  know." 
They  may  not  be  quite  sure  what  it  is  that  they  want  /  ^^" 
to  know.  But  they  have  no  doubt  that  knowledge 
is  an  excellent  thing,  and  they  have  come  to  the  uni 
versity  to  get  it.  This  strong  desire  to  learn,  this 
attitude  of  concentrated  attack  upon  the  secrets  of 
the  universe,  seems  to  me  less  noticeable  among  the 
students  of  the  older  colleges  of  the  East  than  it  is  in 
these  new  big  institutions  of  the  Centre. 

The  State  universities  which  have  developed  it, 
or  grown  up  to  meet  it,  are  in  many  cases  wonder 
fully  well  organized  and  equipped.  Professors  of 
high  standing  have  been  brought  from  the  Eastern 
colleges  and  from  Europe.  The  main  stress,  perhaps, 
is  laid  upon  practical  results,  and  the  technique  of 
industry.  Studies  which  are  supposed  to  be  directly 
utilitarian  take  the  precedence  over  those  which  are 
regarded  as  merely  disciplinary.  But  in  the  best  of 

Q  225 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

these  institutions  the  idea  of  general  culture  is  main 
tained. 

The  University  of  Michigan,  which  is  the  oldest  and 
the  largest  of  these  western  State  universities,  still 
keeps  its  primacy  with  4280  students  drawn  from 
48  States  and  Territories.  But  the  Universities  of 
Wisconsin,  and  Minnesota,  and  Illinois,  and  Cali 
fornia  are  not  unworthy  rivals. 

A  member  of  the  British  Commission  which  came 
to  study  education  in  the  United  States  four  years  ago 
gave  his  judgment  that  the  University  of  Wisconsin 
was  the  foremost  in  America.  Why?  "Because," 
said  he,  "it  is  a  wholesome  product  of  a  common 
wealth  of  three  millions  of  people;  sane,  industrial, 
and  progressive.  It  knits  together  the  professions 
and  labours;  it  makes  the  fine  arts  and  the  anvil 
one." 

That  is  a  characteristic  modern  opinion,  coming, 
mark  you,  not  from  an  American,  but  from  an  Eng 
lishman.  It  reminds  me  of  the  advice  which  an  old 
judge  gave  to  a  young  friend  who  had  just  been 
raised  to  the  judicial  bench.  "Never  give  reasons," 
said  he,  "  for  your  decisions.  The  decision  may  often 
be  right,  but  the  reasons  will  probably  be  wrong." 

A  thoughtful  critic  would  say  that  the  union  of  "the 
fine  arts  and  the  anvil"  was  not  a  sufficient  ground 
for  awarding  the  primacy  to  a  university.  Its  stand 
ing  must  be  measured  in  its  own  sphere,  —  the  realm 

226 


DEVELOPMENT   AND   EDUCATION 

of  knowledge  and  wisdom.  It  exists  for  the  dis 
interested  pursuit  of  truth,  for  the  development  of  the 
intellectual  lue;  and  for  the  rounded  development  of 
character.  Its  primary  aim  is  not  to  fit  men  for  any 
specific  industry,  but  to  give  them  those  things  which 
are  everywhere  essential  to  intelligent  living.  Its  at 
tention  must  be  fixed  not  on  the  work,  but  on  the  man. 
In  him,  as  a  person,  it  must  seek  to  develop  four 
powers  —  the  power  to  see  clearly,  the  power  to 
imagine  vividly,  the  power  to  think  independently, 
and  the  power  to  will  wisely  and  nobly.  This  is  the 
university  ideal  which  a  conservative  critic  would 
maintain  against  the  utilitarian  theory.  He  might 
admire  the  University  of  Wisconsin  greatly,  but  it 
would  be  for  other  reasons  than  those  which  the 
Englishman  gave. 

"After  all,"  this  conservative  would  say,  "the 
older  American  universities  are  still  the  most  impor 
tant  factors  in  the  higher  education  of  the  country. 
They  have  the  traditions.  They  set  the  standard. 
You  cannot  understand  education  in  England  without 
going  to  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  nor  in  America 
without  going  to  Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton,  and 
Columbia." 

Perhaps  the  conservative  would  be  right.  At  all 
events,  I  wish  that  I  could  help  the  friendly  foreign 
observer  to  understand  just  what  these  older  institu 
tions  of  learning,  and  some  others  like  them,  have 
227 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

meant  and  still  mean  to  Americans.  They  are  the 
monuments  of  the  devotion  of  our  fathers  to  ideal 
aims.  They  are  the  landmarks  of  the  intellectual 
life  of  the  young  republic.  Time  has  changed  them, 
but  it  has  not  removed  them.  They  still  define 
a  region  within  which  the  making  of  a  reasonable 
man  is  the  main  interest,  and  truth  is  sought  and 
served  for  her  own  sake. 

Originally,  these  older  universities  were  almost 
identical  in  form.  They  were  called  colleges  and 
based  upon  the  idea  of  a  uniform  four  years'  course 
consisting  mainly  of  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics, 
with  an  addition  of  history,  philosophy,  and  natural 
science  in  the  last  two  years,  and  leading  to  the 
degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts.  This  was  supposed  to  be 
the  way  to  make  a  reasonable  man. 

But  in  the  course  of  time  the  desire  to  seek  truth 
in  other  regions,  by  other  paths,  led  to  a  gradual 
enlargement  and  finally  to  an  immense  expansion  of 
the  curriculum.  The  department  of  letters  was 
opened  to  receive  English  and  other  modern  lan 
guages.  The  department  of  philosophy  branched  out 
into  economics  and  civics  and  experimental  psychol 
ogy.  History  took  notice  of  the  fact  that  much  has 
happened  since  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
Science  threw  wide  its  doors  to  receive  the  new 
methods  and  discoveries  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  elective  system  of  study  came  in  like  a  flood  from 

228 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

Germany.  The  old-fashioned  curriculum  was  sub 
merged  and  dissolved.  The  four  senior  colleges 
came  out  as  universities  and  began  to  differentiate 
themselves. 

Harvard,  under  the  bold  leadership  of  President 
Eliot,  went  first  and  farthest  in  the  development  of 
the  elective  system.  One  of  its  own  graduates,  Mr. 
John  Corbin,  has  recently  written  of  it  as  "a  Ger 
manized  university."  It  offers  to  its  students  free 
choice  among  a  multitude  of  courses  so  great  that 
it  is  said  that  one  man  could  hardly  take  them  all 
in  two  hundred  years.  There  is  only  one  course 
which  every  undergraduate  is  required  to  take,  — 
English  composition  in  the  Freshman  year:  551 
distinct  courses  are  presented  by  the  Faculty  of  Arts 
and  Sciences.  In  the  whole  university  there  are 
556  officers  of  instruction  and  4000  students.  There 
is  no  other  institution  in  America  which  provides 
such  a  rich,  varied,  and  free  chance  for  the  individ 
ual  to  develop  his  intellectual  life. 

Princeton,  so  far  as  the  elective  system  is  concerned, 
represents  the  other  extreme.  President  McCosh  in 
troduced  it  with  Scotch  caution  and  reserve,  in  1875. 
It  hardly  went  beyond  the  liberalizing  of  the  last 
two  years  of  study.  Other  enlargements  followed. 
But  at  heart  Princeton  remained  conservative. 
It  liked  regularity,  uniformity,  system,  more  than  it 
liked  freedom  and  variety.  In  recent  years  it  has 
229 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

rearranged  the  electives  in  groups,  which  compel  a 
certain  amount  of  unity  in  the  main  direction  of  a 
student's  effort.  It  has  introduced  a  system  of  pre 
ceptors  or  tutors  who  take  personal  charge  of  each 
student  in  his  reading  and  extra  class-room  work. 
The  picked  men  of  the  classes,  who  have  won  prizes, 
or  scholarships,  or  fellowships,  go  on  with  higher  uni 
versity  work  in  the  graduate  school.  The  divinity 
school  is  academically  independent,  though  closely 
allied.  There  are  no  other  professional  schools. 
Thus  Princeton  is  distinctly  "a  collegiate  university," 
with  a  very  definite  idea  of  what  a  liberal  education 
ought  to  include,  and  a  fixed  purpose  of  developing 
the  individual  by  leading  him  through  a  regulated  in 
tellectual  discipline. 

Yale,  the  second  in  age  of  the  American  universities, 
occupies  a  middle  ground,  and  fills  it  with  immense 
vigour.  Very  slow  in  yielding  to  the  elective  system, 
Yale  theoretically  adopted  it  four  years  ago  in  its 
extreme  form.  But  in  practice  the  "Yale  Spirit" 
preserves  the  unity  of  each  class  from  entrance  to 
graduation;  the  "average  man"  is  much  more  of  a 
controlling  factor  than  he  is  at  Harvard,  and  the  solid 
body  of  students  in  the  Department  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  gives  tone  to  the  whole  university.  Yale 
is  typically  American  in  its  love  of  liberty  and  its 
faculty  of  self-organization.  It  draws  its  support 
from  a  wider  range  of  country  than  either  Harvard  or 

230 


DEVELOPMENT  AND  EDUCATION 

Princeton.  It  has  not  been  a  leader  in  the  production 
of  advanced  ideas  or  educational  methods.  Origi 
nality  is  not  its  mark.  Efficiency  is.  No  other 
American  university  has  done  more  in  giving  men 
of  light  and  leading  to  industrial,  professional,  and 
public  life  in  the  United  States. 

Columbia,  by  its  location  in  the  largest  of  the  Amer 
ican  cities,  and  by  the  direction  which  its  last  three 
presidents  have  given  to  its  policy,  has  become  much 
stronger  in  its  professional  schools  and  its  advanced 
graduate  work,  than  in  its  undergraduate  college. 
Its  schools  of  mines  and  law  and  medicine  are  famous. 
In  its  graduate  courses  it  has  as  many  students 
enrolled  as  Harvard,  Yale,  and  Michigan  put  to 
gether.  It  has  a  library  of  450,000  volumes,  and 
endowment  for  various  kinds  of  special  study,  in 
cluding  Chinese  and  journalism. 

None  of  these  four  universities  is  coeducational  in 
the  department  of  arts  and  sciences.  But  Harvard 
and  Columbia  each  have  an  annex  for  women,  — 
Radcliffe  College  and  Barnard  College,  —  in  which 
the  university  professors  lecture  and  teach. 

In  Yale,  Harvard,  Princeton,  and  most  of  the  older 
colleges,  except  those  which  are  situated  in  the  great 
cities,  there  is  a  common  life  of  the  students  which 
is  peculiar,  I  believe,  to  America,  and  highly  character 
istic  and  interesting.  They  reside  together  in  large 
halls  or  dormitories  grouped  in  an  academic  estate 

231 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

which  is  almost  always  beautiful  with  ancient  trees 
and  spacious  lawns.  There  is  nothing  like  the  caste 
division  among  them  which  is  permitted,  if  not 
fostered,  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  by  the  existence 
of  distinct  colleges  in  the  same  university.  They  be 
long  to  the  same  social  body,  a  community  of  youth 
bound  together  for  a  happy  interval  of  four  years 
between  the  strict  discipline  of  school  and  the  sepa 
rating  pressure  of  life  in  the  outer  world.  They 
have  their  own  customs  and  traditions,  often  absurd, 
always  picturesque  and  amusing.  They  have  their 
own  interests,  chief  among  which  is  the  cultivation 
of  warm  friendships  among  men  of  the  same  age. 
They  organize  their  own  clubs  and  societies,  athletic, 
musical,  literary,  dramatic,  or  purely  social,  accord 
ing  to  elective  affinity.  But  the  class  spirit  creates 
a  ground  of  unity  for  all  who  enter  and  graduate 
together,  and  the  college  spirit  makes  a  common  tie 
for  all. 

It  is  a  little  world  by  itself,  —  this  American 
college  life,  —  incredibly  free,  yet  on  the  whole 
self -controlled  and  morally  sound,  —  physically  ac 
tive  and  joyful,  yet  at  bottom  full  of  serious  purpose. 
See  the  students  on  the  athletic  field  at  some  great 
foot-ball  or  base-ball  match;  hear  their  volleying 
cheers,  their  ringing  songs  of  encouragement  or 
victory;  watch  their  waving  colours,  their  eager 
faces,  their  movements  of  excitement  as  the  fortune 
232 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   EDUCATION 

of  the  game  shifts  and  changes;  and  you  might 
think  that  these  young  men  cared  for  nothing 
but  out-of-door  sport.  But  that  noisy  enthusiasm 
is  the  natural  overflow  of  youthful  spirits.  The 
athletic  game  gives  it  the  easiest  outlet,  the  simplest 
opportunity  to  express  college  loyalty  by  an  outward 
sign,  a  shout,  a  cheer,  a  song.  Follow  the  same  men 
from  day  to  day,  from  week  to  week,  and  you 
will  find  that  the  majority  of  them,  even  among  the 
athletes,  know  that  the  central  object  of  their  college 
life  is  to  get  an  education.  But  they  will  tell  you, 
also,  that  this  education  does  not  come  only  from  the 
lecture-room,  the  class,  the  library.  An  indispensable 
and  vital  part  of  it  comes  from  their  daily  contact  with 
one  another  in  play  and  work  and  comradeship,  — 
from  the  chance  which  college  gives  them  to  know, 
and  estimate,  and  choose,  their  friends  among  their 
fellows. 

It  is  intensely  democratic,  —  this  American  college 
life,  —  and  therefore  it  has  distinctions,  as  every  real 
democracy  must.  But  they  are  not  artificial  and  con 
ventional.  They  are  based  in  the  main  upon  what  a 
man  is  and  does,  what  contribution  he  makes  to  the 
honour  and  joy  and  fellowship  of  the  community. 

The  entrance  of  the  son  of  a  millionnaire,  of  a  high 
official,  of  a  famous  man,  is  noted,  of  course.  But  it  is 
noted  only  as  a  curious  fact  of  natural  history  which 
has  no  bearing  upon  the  college  world.  The  real 

233 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

question  is,  What  kind  of  a  fellow  is  the  new  man  ? 
Is  he  a  good  companion ;  has  he  the  power  of  leader 
ship;  can  he  do  anything  particularly  well ;  is  he  a 
vigorous  and  friendly  person  ?  Wealth  and  parental 
fame  do  not  count,  except  perhaps  as  slight  hin 
drances,  because  of  the  subconscious  jealousy  which 
they  arouse  in  a  community  where  the  majority  do  not 
possess  them.  Poverty  does  not  count  at  all,  unless 
it  makes  the  man  himself  proud  and  shy,  or  confines 
him  so  closely  to  the  work  of  self-support  that  he  has 
no  time  to  mix  with  the  crowd.  Men  who  are  work 
ing  their  own  way  through  college  are  often  the 
leaders  in  popularity  and  influence. 

I  do  not  say  that  there  are  no  social  distinctions  in 
American  college  life.  There,  as  in  the  great  world, 
little  groups  of  men  are  drawn  together  by  expensive 
tastes  and  amusements;  little  coteries  are  formed 
which  aim  at  exclusiveness.  But  these  are  of  no  real 
account  in  the  student  body.  It  lives  in  a  brisk  and 
wholesome  air  of  free  competition  in  study  and  sport, 
of  free  intercourse  on  a  human  basis. 

It  is  this  tone  of  humanity,  of  sincerity,  of  joyful 
contact  with  reality,  in  student  life,  that  makes  the 
American  graduate  love  his  college  with  a  sentiment 
which  must  seem  to  foreigners  almost  like  sentimen 
tality.  His  memory  holds  her  as  the  Alma  Mater  of 
his  happiest  years.  He  goes  back  to  visit  her  halls, 
her  playgrounds,  her  shady  walks,  year  after  year,  as 

234 


DEVELOPMENT   AND   EDUCATION 

one  returns  to  a  shrine  of  the  heart.  He  sings  the 
college  songs,  he  joins  in  the  college  cheers,  with  an 
enthusiasm  which  does  not  die  as  his  voice  loses  the 
ring  of  youth.  And  when  gray  hairs  come  upon  him, 
he  still  walks  with  his  class  among  the  old  graduates 
at  the  head  of  the  commencement  procession.  It  is 
all  a  little  strange,  a  little  absurd,  perhaps,  to  one  who 
watches  it  critically,  from  the  outside.  But  to  the 
man  himself  it  is  simply  a  natural  tribute  to  the  good 
and  wholesome  memory  of  American  college  life. 

But  what  are  its  results  from  the  educational  point 
of  view  ?  What  do  these  colleges  and  universities  do 
for  the  intellectual  life  of  the  country?  Doubtless 
they  are  still  far  from  perfect  in  method  and  achieve 
ment.  Doubtless  they  let  many  students  pass 
through  them  without  acquiring  mental  thoroughness, 
philosophical  balance,  fine  culture.  Doubtless  they 
need  to  advance  in  the  standard  of  teaching,  the 
strictness  of  examination,  the  encouragement  of  re 
search.  They  have  much  to  learn.  They  are 
learning. 

Great  central  institutions  like  those  which  Mr. 
Carnegie  has  endowed  for  the  Promotion  of  Research 
and  for  the  Advancement  of  Teaching  will  help 
progress.  Conservative  experiments  and  liberal  ex 
periments  will  lead  to  better  knowledge. 

But  whatever  changes  are  made,  whatever  improve 
ments  arrive  in  the  higher  education  in  America, 

235 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

one  thing  I  hope  will  never  be  given  up,  —  the  free, 
democratic,  united  student  life  of  our  colleges  and 
universities.  For  without  this  factor  we  cannot 
develop  the  kind  of  intellectual  person  who  will  be  at 
home  in  the  republic.  The  world  in  which  he  has  to 
live  will  not  ask  him  what  degrees  he  has  taken. 
It  will  ask  him  simply  what  he  is,  and  what  he  can  do. 
If  he  is  to  be  a  leader  in  a  country  where  the  people  are 
sovereign,  he  must  add  to  the  power  to  see  clearly, 
to  imagine  vividly,  to  think  independently,  and  to  will 
wisely,  the  faculty  of  knowing  other  men  as  they  are, 
and  of  working  with  them  for  what  they  ought  to  be. 
And  one  of  the  best  places  to  get  this  faculty  is  in  the 
student  life  of  an  American  college. 


236 


VII 

SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 


VII 

SELF-EXPRESSION   AND    LITERATURE 

ALL  human  activity  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  mode 
of  self-expression.  The  works  of  man  in  the  organi 
zation  of  the  State,  in  the  development  of  industry, 
in  voluntary  effort  for  the  improvement  of  the  com 
mon  order,  are  an  utterance  of  his  inner  life. 

But  it  is  natural  for  him  to  seek  a  fuller,  clearer, 
more  conscious  mode  of  self-expression,  to  speak 
more  directly  of  his  ideals,  thoughts,  and  feelings. 
It  is  this  direct  utterance  of  the  Spirit  of  America, 
as  it  is  found  in  literature,  which  I  propose  now, 
and  in  the  following  lectures,1  to  discuss.  . 

Around  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  and  social 
structures  which  men  build  for  themselves  there  are 
always  flowing  great  tides  and  currents  of  human 
speech ;  like  the  discussions  in  the  studio  of  the  archi 
tect,  the  confused  murmur  of  talk  among  the  work 
men,  the  curious  and  wondering  comments  of  the 
passing  crowd,  when  some  vast  cathedral  or  palace 
or  hall  of  industry  is  rising  from  the  silent  earth. 

1  The  lectures  which  followed,  at  the  Sorbonne,  on  Irving, 
Cooper,  Bryant,  Poe,  Longfellow,  Hawthorne,  Whittier,  Emer 
son,  Lowell,  Whitman,  and  Present  Tendencies  in  American  Lit 
erature,  are  not  included  in  this  volume. 

239 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

Man  is  a  talking  animal.  The  daily  debates  of  the 
forum  and  the  market-place,  the  orations  and  lec 
tures  of  a  thousand  platforms,  the  sermons  and  ex 
hortations  of  the  thousand  pulpits,  the  ceaseless 
conversation  of  the  street  and  the  fireside,  all  confess 
that  one  of  the  deepest  of  human  appetites  and  pas 
sions  is  for  self-expression  and  intercourse,  to  reveal 
and  to  communicate  the  hidden  motions  of  the  spirit 
that  is  in  man. 

Language,  said  a  cynic,  is  chiefly  useful  to  conceal 
thought.  But  that  is  only  a  late-discovered,  minor, 
and  decadent  use  of  speech.  If  concealment  had 
been  the  first  and  chief  need  that  man  felt,  he  never 
would  have  made  a  language.  He  would  have  re 
mained  silent.  He  would  have  lived  among  the 
trees,  contented  with  that  inarticulate  chatter  which 
still  keeps  the  thoughts  of  monkeys  (if  they  have 
any)  so  well  concealed. 

But  vastly  the  greater  part  of  human  effort  toward 
self-expression  serves  only  the  need  of  the  transient 
individual,  the  passing  hour.     It  sounds  incessantly 
beneath  the  silent  stars,  —  this  murmur,  this  roar, 
this  susurrus  of  mingled  voices,  —  and  melts  con-. 
tinually  into  the  vague  inane.     The  idle  talk  of  the*/ 
multitude,  the  eloquence  of  golden  tongues,  the  shouts 
of  brazen  throats,  go  by  and  are  forgotten,  like  the 
wind  that  passes  through  the  rustling  leaves  of  the 
forest. 

240 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

In  the  fine  arts  man  has  invented  not  only  a  more 
perfect  and  sensitive,  but  also  a  more  enduring,  form 
for  the  expression  of  that  which  fills  his  spirit  with 
the  joy  and  wondei  of  living.  His  sense  of  beauty 
and  order;  the  response  of  something  within  him 
to  certain  aspects  of  nature,  certain  events  of  life; 
his  interpretation  of  the  vague  and  mysterious  things 
about  him  which  seem  to  suggest  a  secret  meaning; 
his  delight  in  the  intensity  and  clearness  of  single 
impressions,  in  the  symmetry  and  proportion  of 
related  objects;  his  double  desire  to  surpass  nature, 
on  the  one  side  by  the  simplicity  and  unity  of  his 
work,  or  on  the  other  side  by  the  freedom  of  its  range 
and  the  richness  of  its  imagery;  his  sudden  glimpses 
of  truth;  his  persistent  visions  of  virtue;  his  percep 
tion  of  human  misery  and  his  hopes  of  human  excel 
lence;  his  deep  thoughts  and  solemn  dreams  of  the 
Divine,  —  all  these  he  strives  to  embody,  clearly  or 
vaguely,  by  symbol,  or  allusion,  or  imitation,  in 
painting  and  sculpture,  music  and  architecture. 

The  medium  of  these  arts  is  physical;  they  speak 
to  the  eye  and  the  ear.  But  their  ultimate  appeal  is 
spiritual,  and  the  pleasure  which  they  give  goes  far 
deeper  than  the  outward  senses. 

In  literature  we  have  another  art  whose  very  me 
dium  is  more  than  half  spiritual.  For  words  are 
not  like  lines,  or  colours,  or  sounds.  They  are  living 
creatures  begotten  in  the  soul  of  man.  They  come 
&  241 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

to  us  saturated  with  human  meaning  and  association. 
They  are  vitally  related  to  the  emotions  and  thoughts 
out  of  which  they  have  sprung.  They  have  a  wider 
range,  a  more  delicate  precision,  a  more  direct  and  pen 
etrating  power  than  any  other  medium  of  expression. 

The  art  of  literature  which  weaves  these  living 
threads  into  its  fabric  lies  closer  to  the  common 
life  and  rises  higher  into  the  ideal  life  than  any  other 
art.  In  the  lyric,  the  drama,  the  epic,  the  romance, 
the  fable,  the  conte,  the  essay,  the  history,  the  biog 
raphy,  it  not  only  speaks  to  the  present  hour,  but  also 
leaves  its  record  for  the  future. 

Literature  consists  of  those  writings  which  inter 
pret  the  meanings  of  nature  and  life,  in  words  of 
charm  and  power,  touched  with  the  personality  of 
the  author,  in  artistic  forms  of  permanent  interest. 

Out  of  the  common  utterances  of  men,  the  daily 
flood  of  language  spoken  and  written,  by  which  they 
express  their  thoughts  and  feelings,  —  out  of.  that 
current  of  journalism  and  oratory,  preaching  and 
debate,  literature  comes.  But  with  that  current  it 
does  not  pass  away.  Art  has  endowed  it  with  the 
magic  which  confers  i  distinct  life,  a  longc.  endur 
ance,  a  so-called  immortality.  It  is  the  ark  on  the 
flood.  It  is  the  light  on  the  candlestick.  It  is  the 
flower  among  the  leaves,  the  consummation  of  the 
plant's  vitality,  the  crown  of  its  beauty,  the  treasure- 
house  of  its  seeds. 

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SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

Races  and  nations  have  existed  without  a  litera 
ture.  But  their  life  has  been  dumb.  With  their 
death  their  power  has  departed. 

What  does  the  world  know  of  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  those  unlettered  tribes  of  white  and  black 
and  yellow  and  red,  flitting  in  ghost-like  pantomime 
across  the  background  of  the  stage?  Whatever 
message  they  may  have  had  for  us,  of  warning,  of 
encouragement,  of  hope,  of  guidance,  remains  un 
delivered.  They  are  but  phantoms,  mysterious  and 
ineffective. 

But  with  literature  life  arrives  at  utterance  and 
lasting  power.  The  Scythians,  the  Etruscans,  the 
Phoenicians,  the  Carthaginians,  have  vanished  into 
thin  air.  We  grope  among  their  ruined  cities.  We 
collect  their  figured  pottery,  their  rusted  coins  and 
weapons.  And  we  wonder  what  manner  of  men 
they  were.  But  the  Greeks,  the  Hebrews,  the  Ro 
mans,  still  live.  We  know  their  thoughts  and  feel 
ings,  their  loves  and  hates,  their  motives  and  ideals. 
They  touch  us  and  move  us  to-day  through  a  vital 
literature.  Nor  should  we  fully  understand  their 
other  arts,  nor  grasp  the  meaning  of  their  political 
and  social  institutions  without  the  light  which  is 
kindled  within  them  by  the  ever-burning  torch  of 
letters. 

The  Americans  do  not  belong  among  the  dumb 
races.  Their  spiritual  descent  is  not  from  Etruria 

243 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

and  Phoenicia  and  Carthage,  nor  from  the  silent  red 
man  of  the  western  forests.  Intellectually,  like  all 
the  leading  races  of  Europe,  they  inherit  from  Greece 
and  Rome  and  Palestine. 

Their  instinct  of  self-expression  in  the  arts  has  been 
slower  to  assert  itself  than  those  other  traits  which 
we  have  been  considering,  —  self-reliance,  fair- 
play,  common  order,  the  desire  of  personal  develop 
ment.  But  they  have  taken  part,  and  they  still 
take  part  (not  altogether  inaudibly),  in  the  general 
conversation  and  current  debate  of  the  world.  More 
over,  they  have  begun  to  create  a  native  literature 
which  utters,  to  some  extent  at  least,  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  the  soul  of  the  people. 

This  literature,  considered  in  its  ensemble  as  an 
expression  of  our  country,  raises  some  interesting 
questions  which  I  should  like  to  answer.  Why 
has  it  been  so  slow  to  begin?  Why  is  it  not  more 
recognizably  American?  What  are  the  qualities 
in  which  it  really  expresses  the  Spirit  of  America  ? 

I.  If  you  ask  me  why  a  native  literature  has  been 
so  slow  to  begin  in  America,  I  answer,  first,  that  it  has 
not  been  slow  at  all.  Compared  with  other  races, 
the  Americans  have  been  rather  less  slow  than  the 
average  in  seeking  self-expression  in  literary  form 
and  in  producing  books  which  have  survived  the 
generation  which  produced  them. 

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SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

How  long  was  it,  for  example,  before  the  Hebrews 
began  to  create  a  literature?  A  definite  answer  to 
that  question  would  bring  us  into  trouble  with  the 
theologians.  But  at  least  we  may  say  that  from 
the  beginning  of  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth  to  the 
time  of  the  prophet  Samuel  there  were  three  centuries 
and  a  half  without  literature. 

How  long  did  Rome  exist  before  its  literary  activi 
ties  began  ?  Of  course  we  do  not  know  what  books 
may  have  perished.  But  the  first  Romans  whose 
names  have  kept  a  place  in  literature  were  Naevius 
and  Ennius,  who  began  to  write  more  than  five 
hundred  years  after  the  city  was  founded. 

Compared  with  these  long  periods  of  silence,  the 
two  hundred  years  between  the  settlement  of  America 
and  the  appearance  of  Washington  Irving  and  James 
Fenimore  Cooper  seems  but  a  short  time. 

Even  earlier  than  these  writers  I  should  be  inclined 
to  claim  a  place  in  literature  for  two  Americans, 
—  Jonathan  Edwards  and  Benjamin  Franklin. 
Indeed  it  is  possible  that  the  clean-cut  philosophical 
essays  of  the  iron-clad  Edwards,  and  the  intensely 
human  autobiography  of  the  shrewd  and  genial 
Franklin  may  continue  to  find  critical  admirers  and 
real  readers  long  after  many  writers,  at  present  more 
praised,  have  been  forgotten. 

But  if  you  will  allow  me  this  preliminary  protest 
against  the  superficial  notion  that  the  Americans 

245 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

have  been  remarkably  backward  in  producing  a 
national  literature,  I  will  make  a  concession  to  cur 
rent  and  commonplace  criticism  by  admitting  that 
they  were  not  as  quick  in  turning  to  literary  self- 
expression  as  might  have  been  expected.  They  were 
not  a  mentally  sluggish  people.  They  were  a  race 
of  idealists.  They  were  fairly  well  educated.  Why 
did  they  not  go  to  work  at  once,  with  their  intense 
energy,  to  produce  a  national  literature  on  de 
mand? 

One  reason,  perhaps,  was  that  they  had  the  good 
sense  to  perceive  that  a  national  literature  never  has 
been,  and  never  can  be,  produced  in  this  way.  It  is 
not  made  to  order.  It  grows. 

Another  reason,  no  doubt,  was  the  fact  that  they 
already  had  more  books  than  they  had  time  to  read. 
They  were  the  inheritors  of  the  literature  of  Europe. 
They  had  the  classics  and  the  old  masters.  Milton 
and  Dryden  and  Locke  wrote  for  them.  Pope  and 
Johnson,  Defoe  and  Goldsmith,  wrote  for  them. 
Cervantes  and  Le  Sage  wrote  for  them.  Montes 
quieu  and  Rousseau  wrote  for  them.  Richardson 
and  Smollett  and  Fielding  gave  them  a  plenty  of 
long-measure  novels.  Above  all,  they  found  an  over 
flowing  supply  of  books  of  edification  in  the  religious 
writings  of  Thomas  Fuller,  Richard  Baxter,  John 
Bunyan,  Philip  Doddridge,  Matthew  Henry,  and 
other  copious  Puritans.  There  was  no  pressing 

246 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

need  of  mental  food  for  the  Americans.     The  sup 
ply  was  equal  to  the  demand. 

Another  reason,  possibly,  was  the  fact  that  they 
did  not  have  a  new  language,  with  all  its  words  fresh 
and  vivid  from  their  origin  in. life,  to  develop  and 
exploit.  This  was  at  once  an  advantage  and  a  dis 
advantage. 

English  was  not  the  mother-tongue  of  all  the  colo 
nists.  For  two  or  three  generations  there  was  a  con 
fusion  of  speech  in  the  middle  settlements.  It  is 
recorded  of  a  certain  young  Dutchwoman  from  New 
Amsterdam,  travelling  to  the  English  province  of 
Connecticut,  that  she  was  in  danger  of  being  tried  for 
witchcraft  because  she  spoke  a  diabolical  tongue, 
evidently  marking  her  as  "a  child  of  Satan." 

But  this  polyglot  period  passed  away,  and  the 
people  in  general  spoke 

"  the  tongue  that  Shakespeare  spoke,"  — 
spoke  it  indeed  rather  more  literally  than  the  Eng 
lish  did,  retaining  old  locutions  like  "I  guess,"  and 
sprinkling  their  talk  with  "Sirs,"  and  "Ma'ams,"  — 
which  have  since  come  to  be  considered  as  Ameri 
canisms,  whereas  they  are  really  Elizabethanisms. 

The  possession  of  a  language  that  is  already  con 
solidated,  organized,  enriched  with  a  vast  vocabu 
lary,  and  dignified  by  literary  use,  has  two  effects. 
It  makes  the  joyful  and  unconscious  literature  of 
adolescence,  the  period  of  popular  ballads  and 

247 


THE    SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

rhymed  chronicles,  quaint  animal-epics  and  miracle- 
plays,  impossible.  It  offers  to  the  literature  of  ma 
turity  an  instrument  of  expression  equal  to  its  needs. 

But  such  a  language  carries  with  it  discourage 
ments  as  well  as  invitations.  It  sets  a  high  standard 
of  excellence.  It  demands  courage  and  strength  to 
use  it  in  any  but  an  imitative  way. 

Do  not  misunderstand  me  here.  The  Americans, 
since  that  blending  of  experience  which  made  them 
one  people,  have  never  felt  that  the  English  language 
was  strange  or  foreign  to  them.  They  did  not  adopt 
or  borrow  it.  It  was  their  own  native  tongue.  They 
grew  up  in  it.  They  contributed  to  it.  It  belonged 
to  them.  But  perhaps  they  hesitated  a  little  to  use 
it  freely  and  fearlessly  and  originally  while  they 
were  still  in  a  position  of  tutelage  and  dependence. 
Perhaps  they  waited  for  the  consciousness  that  they 
were  indeed  grown  up,  —  a  consciousness  which 
did  not  fully  come  until  after  the  War  of  1812. 
Perhaps  they  needed  to  feel  the  richness  of  their  own 
experience,  the  vigour  of  their  own  inward  life,  before 
they  could  enter  upon  the  literary  use  of  that  most 
rich  and  vigorous  of  modern  languages. 

Another  reason  why  American  literature  did  not 
develop  sooner  was  the  absorption  of  the  energy 
of  the  people  in  other  tasks  than  writing.  They 
had  to  chop  down  trees,  to  build  houses,  to  plough 
prairies.  It  is  one  thing  to  explore  the  wilderness, 

248 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

as  Chateaubriand  did,  an  elegant  visitor  looking 
for  the  materials  of  romance.  It  is  another  thing  to 
live  in  the  wilderness  and  fight  with  it  for  a  living. 
Real  pioneers  are  sometimes  poets  at  heart.  But 
they  seldom  write  their  poetry. 

After  the  Americans  had  won  their  security  and 
their  daily  bread  in  the  wild  country,  they  had  still 
to  make  a  State,  to  develop  a  social  order,  to  pro 
vide  themselves  with  schools  and  churches,  to  do  all 
kinds  of  things  which  demand  time,  and  toil,  and  the 
sweat  of  the  brow.  It  was  a  busy  world.  There 
was  more  work  to  be  done  than  there  were  workmen 
to  do  it.  Industry  claimed  every  talent  almost  as 
soon  as  it  got  into  breeches. 

A  Franklin,  who  might  have  written  essays  or 
philosophical  treatises  in  the  manner  of  Diderot, 
must  run  a  printing-press,  invent  stoves,  pave  streets, 
conduct  a  postal  service,  raise  money  for  the  War  of 
Independence.  A  Freneau,  who  might  have  written 
lyrics  in  the  manner  of  Andre  Chdnier,  must  become 
a  soldier,  a  sea-captain,  an  editor,  a  farmer. 

Even  those  talents  which  were  drawn  to  the  intel 
lectual  side  of  life  were  absorbed  in  the  efforts  which 
belong  to  the  current  discussions  of  affairs,  the  daily 
debate  of  the  world,  rather  than  to  literature.  They 
disputed,  they  argued,  they  exhorted,  with  a  direct 
aim  at  practical  results  in  morals  and  conduct. 
They  became  preachers,  orators,  politicians,  pam- 
249 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

phleteers.  They  wrote  a  good  deal ;  but  their  writing 
has  the  effect  of  reported  speech  addressed  to  an 
audience.  The  mass  of  sermons,  and  political 
papers,  and  long  letters  on  timely  topics,  which 
America  produced  in  her  first  two  hundred  years 
is  considerable.  It  contains  much  more  vitality 
than  the  imitative  essays,  poems,  and  romances  of 
the  same  period. 

John  Dickinson's  "Letters  from  a  Pennsylvania 
Farmer,"  the  sermons  of  President  Witherspoon  of 
Princeton,  the  papers  of  Madison,  Hamilton,  and 
Jay  in  the  Federalist,  are  not  bad  reading,  even 
to-day.  They  are  virile  and  significant.  They 
show  that  the  Americans  knew  how  to  use  the  Eng 
lish  language  in  its  eighteenth-century  form.  But 
they  were  produced  to  serve  a  practical  purpose. 
Therefore  they  lack  the  final  touch  of  that  art  whose 
primary  aim  is  the  pleasure  of  self-expression  in 
forms  as  permanent  and  as  perfect  as  may  be  found. 


II.  The  second  question  which  I  shall  try  to 
answer  is  this :  Why  is  not  the  literature  of  America, 
not  only  in  the  beginning  but  also  in  its  later  devel 
opment,  more  distinctly  American? 

The  answer  is  simple:  It  is  distinctly  American. 
But  unfortunately  the  critics  who  are  calling  so  per 
sistently  and  looking  so  eagerly  for  "Americanism" 
in  literature,  do  not  recognize  it  when  they  see  it. 
250 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

They  are  looking  for  something  strange,  eccentric, 
radical,  and  rude.  When  a  real  American  like 
Franklin,  or  Irving,  or  Emerson,  or  Longfellow,  or 
Lanier,  or  Howells  appears,  these  critics  will  not 
believe  that  he  is  the  genuine  article.  They  expect 
something  in  the  style  of  "Buffalo  Bill."  They 
imagine  the  Spirit  of  America  always  in  a  red  shirt, 
striped  trousers,  and  rawhide  boots. 

They  recognize  the  Americanism  of  Washington 
when  he  crosses  the  forest  to  Fort  Duquesne  in  his 
leather  blouse  and  leggings.  But  when  he  appears 
at  Mount  Vernon  in  black  velvet  and  lace  ruffles, 
they  say,  "This  is  no  American  after  all,  but  a  trans 
planted  English  squire."  They  acknowledge  that 
Francis  Parkman  is  an  American  when  he  follows 
the  Oregon  trail  on  horseback  in  hunter's  dress. 
But  when  he  sits  in  the  tranquil  library  of  his  West 
Roxbury  home  surrounded  by  its  rose  gardens,  they 
say, "  This  is  no  American,  but  a  gentleman  of  Europe 
in  exile." 

How  often  must  our  critics  be  reminded  that  the 
makers  of  America  were  not  redskins  nor  amiable 
ruffians,  but  rather  decent  folk,  with  perhaps  an  ex 
travagant  admiration  for  order  and  respectability? 
When  will  they  learn  that  the  descendants  of  these 
people,  when  they  come  to  write  books,  cannot  be 
expected  to  show  the  qualities  of  barbarians  and 
iconoclasts?  How  shall  we  persuade  them  to  look 
251 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

at  American  literature  not  for  the  by-product  of 
eccentricity,  but  for  the  self-expression  of  a  sane  and 
civilized  people?  I  doubt  whether  it  will  ever  be 
possible  to  effect  this  conversion  and  enlightenment ; 
for  nothing  is  so  strictly  closed  against  criticism  as 
the  average  critic's  adherence  to  the  point  of  view 
imposed  by  his  own  limitations.  But  it  is  a  pity, 
in  this  case,  that  the  point  of  view  is  not  within  sight 
of  the  facts. 

There  is  a  story  that  the  English  poet  Tennyson 
once  said  that  he  was  glad  that  he  had  never  met 
Longfellow,  because  he  would  not  have  liked  to  see 
the  American  poet  put  his  feet  upon  the  table.  If 
the  story  is  true,  it  is  most  laughable.  For  nothing 
could  be  more  unlike  the  super-refined  Longfellow 
than  to  put  his  feet  in  the  wrong  place,  either  on  the 
table,  or  in  his  verse.  Yet  he  was  an  American  of 
the  Americans,  the  literary  idol  of  his  country. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  literature  of  America  would 
be  more  recognizable  if  those  who  consider  it  from 
the  outside  knew  more  of  the  real  spirit  of  the  coun 
try.  If  they  were  not  always  looking  for  volcanoes 
and  earthquakes,  they  might  learn  to  identify  the 
actual  features  of  the  landscape. 

But  when  I  have  said  this,  honesty  compels  me  to 

go  a  little  further  and  admit  that  the  full,  complete 

life  of  America  still  lacks  an  adequate  expression  in 

literature.     Perhaps  it  is  too  large  and  variegated 

252 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

in  its  outward  forms,  too  simple  in  its  individual 
types,  and  too  complex  in  their  combination,  ever  to 
find  this  perfect  expression.  Certainly  we  are  still 
waiting  for  "the  great  American  Novel." 

It  may  be  that  we  shall  have  to  wait  a  long  time 
for  this  comprehensive  and  significant  book  which 
will  compress  into  a  single  cup  of  fiction  all  the  dif 
ferent  qualities  of  the  Spirit  of  America,  all  the  fer 
menting  elements  that  mingle  in  the  vintage  of  the 
New  World.  But  in  this  hope  deferred,  —  if  indeed 
it  be  a  hope  that  can  be  reasonably  entertained  at 
all,  —  we  are  in  no  worse  estate  than  the  other  com 
plex  modern  nations.  What  English  novel  gives  a 
perfect  picture  of  all  England  in  the  nineteenth  cen 
tury?  Which  of  the  French  romances  of  the  last 
twenty  years  expresses  the  whole  spirit  of  France? 

Meantime  it  is  not  difficult  to  find  certain  partial 
and  local  reflections  of  the  inner  and  outer  life  of 
the  real  America  in  the  literature,  limited  in  amount 
though  it  be,  which  has  already  been  produced  in 
that  country.  In  some  of  it  the  local  quality  of 
thought  or  language  is  so  predominant  as  to  act 
almost  as  a  barrier  to  exportation.  But  there  is  a 
smaller  quantity  which  may  fairly  be  called  "good 
anywhere";  and  to  us  it  is,  and  ought  to  be,  doubly 
good  because  of  its  Americanism. 

Thus,  for  example,  any  reader  who  understands 
the  tone  and  character  of  life  in  the  Middle  States, 

253 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

around  New  York  and  Philadelphia,  in  the  first 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  feels  that  the  ideas 
and  feelings  of  the  more  intelligent  people,  those  who 
were  capable  of  using  or  of  appreciating  literary 
forms,  are  well  enough  represented  in  the  writings 
of  the  so-cailed  "Knickerbocker  School." 

Washington  Irving,  the  genial  humorist,  the  deli 
cate  and  sympathetic  essayist  and  story-teller  of 
The  Sketch-Book,  was  the  first  veritable  "man  of 
letters  "  in  America.  Cooper,  the  inexhaustible  teller- 
-of -tales  in  the  open  air,  the  lover  of  brave  adventure 
in  the  forest  and  on  the  sea,  the  Homer  of  the  back 
woodsman,  and  the  idealist  of  the  noble  savage,  was 
the  discoverer  of  real  romance  in  the  New  World. 

Including  other  writers  of  slighter  and  less  spon 
taneous  talent,  like  Halleck,  Drake,  and  Paulding, 
this  school  was  marked  by  a  cheerful  and  optimistic 
view  of  life,  a  tone  of  feeling  more  sentimental  than 
impassioned,  a  friendly  interest  in  humanity  rather 
than  an  intense  moral  enthusiasm,  and  a  flowing, 
easy  style,  —  the  manner  of  a  company  of  people 
living  in  comfort  and  good  order,  people  of  social 
habits,  good  digestion,  and  settled  opinions,  who 
sought  in  literature  more  of  entertainment  and  relaxa 
tion  than  of  inspiration  or  what  the  strenuous  reform 
ers  call  "uplift" 

After  the  days  when  its  fashionable  idol  was  Willis, 
and  its  honoured  though  slightly  cold  poet  was  Bry- 

254 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

ant,  and  its  neglected  and  embittered  genius  was 
Edgar  Allan  Poe,  this  school,  lacking  the  elements  of 
inward  coherence,  passed  into  a  period  of  decline. 
It  revived  again  in  such  writers  as  George  William 
Curtis,  Donald  Mitchell,  Bayard  Taylor,  Charles 
Dudley  Warner,  Frank  R.  Stockton;  and  it  con 
tinues  some  of  its  qualities  in  the  present-day  writers 
whose  centre  is  undoubtedly  New  York. 

Is  it  imaginary,  or  can  I  really  feel  some  traces,  here 
and  there,  of  the  same  influences  which  affected  the 
"Knickerbocker  School"  in  such  different  writers  as 
Mark  Twain  and  William  Dean  Howells,  in  spite  of 
their  western  origin?  Certainly  it  can  be  felt  in 
essayists  like  Hamilton  Mabie  and  Edward  S.  Mar 
tin  and  Brander  Matthews,  in  novelists  like  Dr. 
Weir  Mitchell  and  Hopkinson  Smith,  in  poets  like 
Aldrich  and  Stedman,  and  even  in  the  later  work  of 
a  native  lyrist  like  Richard  Watson  Gilder.  There 
is  something,  —  I  know  not  what,  —  a  kind  of  ur- 
banum  genus  dicendi,  which  speaks  of  the  great  city 
in  the  background  and  of  a  tradition  continued. 
Even  in  the  work  of  such  a  cosmopolitan  and  relent 
less  novelist  as  Mrs.  Wharton,  or  of  such  an  inde 
pendent  and  searching  critic  as  Mr.  Brownell,  my 
mental  palate  catches  a  flavour  of  America  and  a 
reminiscence  of  New  York;  though  now  indeed 
there  is  little  or  nothing  left  of  the  Knickerbocker 
optimism  and  cheerful  sentimentality. 

255 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

The  American  school  of  historians,  including 
such  writers  as  Ticknor,  Prescott,  Bancroft,  Motley, 
and  Parkman,  represents  the  growing  interest  of  the 
people  of  the  New  World  for  the  history  of  the  Old, 
as  well  as  their  desire  to  know  more  about  their 
own  origin  and  development.  Motley's  Rise  of  the 
Dutch  Republic,  Parkman's  volumes  on  the  French 
settlements  in  Canada,  Sloane's  Life  of  Napoleon, 
and  Henry  C.  Lea's  History  of  the  Inquisition 
are  not  only  distinguished  works  of  scholarship, 
but  also  eminently  readable  and  interesting  expres 
sions  of  the  mind  of  a  great  republic  consider 
ing  important  events  and  institutions  in  other  coun 
tries  to  which  its  own  history  was  closely  related. 
The  serious  and  laborious  efforts  of  Bancroft  to  pro 
duce  a  clear  and  complete  History  of  the  United 
States  resulted  in  a  work  of  great  dignity  and  value. 
But  much  was  left  for  others  to  do  in  the  way  of  ex 
ploring  the  sources  of  the  nation,  and  in  closer  study 
of  its  critical  epochs.  This  task  has  been  well 
continued  by  such  historians  as  John  Fiske,  Henry 
Adams,  James  Bach  McMaster,  John  Codman 
Ropes,  James  Ford  Rhodes,  Justin  Winsor,  and 
Sydney  G.  Fisher. 

These  are  only  some  of  the  principal  names  which 
may  be  cited  to  show  that  few  countries  have  better 
reason  than  the  United  States  to  be  proud  of  a 
school  of  historians  whose  works  are  not  only  well 

256 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

documented,  but  also  well  written,  and  so  entitled 
to  be  counted  as  literature. 

The  Southern  States,  before  the  Civil  War  and 
for  a  little  time  after,  were  not  largely  represented 
in  American  letters.  In  prose  they  had  a  fluent 
romancer,  Simms,  who  wrote  somewhat  in  the  man 
ner  of  Cooper,  but  with  less  skill  and  force;  an 
exquisite  artist  of  the  short-story  and  the  lyric,  Poe, 
who,  although  he  was  born  in  Boston  and  did  most  of 
his  work  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  may  per 
haps  be  counted  sympathetically  with  the  South; 
two  agreeable  story-tellers,  John  Esten  Cooke  and 
John  P.  Kennedy ;  two  delicate  and  charming  lyrists, 
Paul  Hayne  and  Henry  Timrod;  and  one  greatly 
gifted  poet,  Sidney  Lanier,  whose  career  was  cut 
short  by  a  premature  death. 

But  the  distinctive  spirit  of  the  South  did  not 
really  find  an  adequate  utterance  in  early  American 
literature,  and  it  is  only  of  late  years  that  it  is  begin 
ning  to  do  so.  The  fine  and  memorable  stories  of 
George  W.  Cable  reflect  the  poesy  and  romance 
of  the  Creole  life  in  Louisiana.  James  Lane  Allen 
and  Thomas  Nelson  Page  express  in  their  prose  the 
Southern  atmosphere  and  temperament.  The  poems 
of  Madison  Cawein  are  full  of  the  bloom  and  fra 
grance  of  Kentucky.  Among  the  women  who  write, 
Alice  Hegan  Rice,  "Charles  Egbert  Craddock," 
Ruth  McEnery  Stuart,  "George  Madden  Martin," 
s  257 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

and  Mary  Johnston  may  be  named  as  charming 
story-tellers  of  the  South.  Joel  Chandler  Harris 
has  made  the  old  negro  folk-tales  classic,  in  his 
Uncle  Remus,  —  a  work  which  belongs,  if  I  mistake 
not,  to  one  of  the  most  enduring  types  of  literature. 

But  beyond  a  doubt  the  richest  and  finest  flower 
ing  of  belles  lettres  in  the  United  States  during  the 
nineteenth  century  was  that  which  has  been  called 
"the  Renaissance  of  New  England."  The  quicken 
ing  of  moral  and  intellectual  life  which  followed 
the  Unitarian  movement  in  theology,  the  antislavery 
agitation  in  society,  and  the  transcendental  fermen 
tation  in  philosophy  may  not  have  caused,  but  it 
certainly  influenced,  the  development  of  a  group  of 
writers,  just  before  the  middle  of  the  century,  who 
brought  a  deeper  and  fuller  note  into  American 
poetry  and  prose. 

Hawthorne,  profound  and  lonely  genius,  dramatist 
of  the  inner  life,  master  of  the  symbolic  story, 
endowed  with  the  double  gift  of  deep  insight  and 
exquisite  art;  Emerson,  herald  of  self-reliance  and 
poet  of  the  intuitions,  whose  prose  and  verse  flash 
with  gem-like  thoughts  and  fancies,  and  whose 
calm,  vigorous  accents  were  potent  to  awaken  and 
sustain  the  intellectual  independence  of  America; 
Longfellow,  the  sweetest  and  the  richest  voice  of 
American  song,  the  household  poet  of  the  New 
World;  Whittier,  the  Quaker  bard,  whose  ballads 

358 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

and  lyrics  reflect  so  perfectly  the  scenery  and  the  sen 
timent  of  New  England ;  Holmes,  genial  and  pungent 
wit,  native  humorist,  with  a  deep  spring  of  sympathy 
and  a  clear  vein  of  poetry  in  his  many-sided  person 
ality  ;  Lowell,  generous  poet  of  high  and  noble  emo 
tions,  inimitable  writer  of  dialect  verse,  penetrating 
critic  and  essayist,  —  these  six  authors  form  a  group 
not  yet  equalled  in  the  literary  history  of  America. 

The  factors  of  strength,  and  the  hidden  elements 
of  beauty,  in  the  Puritan  character  came  to  flower 
and  fruit  in  these  men.  They  were  liberated, 
enlarged,  quickened  by  the  strange  flood  of  poetry, 
philosophy,  and  romantic  sentiment  which  flowed 
into  the  somewhat  narrow  and  sombre  enceinte  of 
Yankee  thought  and  life.  They  found  around  them 
a  circle  of  eager  and  admiring  readers  who  had 
felt  the  same  influences.  The  circle  grew  wider  and 
wider  as  the  charm  and  power  of  these  writers  made 
itself  felt,  and  as  their  ideas  were  diffused.  Their 
work,  always  keeping  a  distinct  New  England  colour, 
had  in  it  a  substance  of  thought  and  feeling,  an 
excellence  of  form  and  texture,  which  gave  it  a  much 
broader  appeal.  Their  fame  passed  from  the  sec 
tional  to  the  national  stage.  In  their  day  Boston 
was  the  literary  centre  of  the  United  States.  And 
in  after  days,  though  the  sceptre  has  passed,  the 
influence  of  these  men  may  be  traced  in  almost  all 
American  writers,  of  the  East,  the  West,  or  the  South, 

259 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

in  every  field  of  literature,  except  perhaps  the  region 
of  realistic  or  romantic  fiction. 

Here  it  seems  as  if  the  West  had  taken  the  lead. 
Bret  Harte,  with  his  frontier  stories,  always  vivid 
but  not  always  accurate,  was  the  founder  of  a  new 
school,  or  at  least  the  discoverer  of  a  new  mine  of 
material,  in  which  Frank  Norris  followed  with  some 
powerful  work,  too  soon  cut  short  by  death,  and 
where  a  number  of  living  men  like  Owen  Wister, 
Stewart  Edward  White,  and  O.  Henry  are  finding 
graphic  stories  to  tell.  Hamlin  Garland,  Booth 
Tarkington,  William  Allen  White,  and  Robert 
Herrick  are  vigorous  romancers  of  the  Middle  West. 
Winston  Churchill  studies  politics  and  people  in 
various  regions,  while  Robert  Chambers  explores 
the  social  complications  of  New  York;  and  both 
write  novels  which  are  full  of  interest  for  Americans 
and  count  their  readers  by  the  hundred  thousand. 

In  the  short-story  Miss  Jewett,  Miss  Wilkins,  and 
Mrs.  Deland  have  developed  characteristic  and 
charming  forms  of  a  difficult  art.  In  poetry  George 
E.  Woodberry  and  William  Vaughn  Moody  have 
continued  the  tradition  of  Emerson  and  Lowell  in 
lofty  and  pregnant  verse.  Joaquin  Miller  has  sung 
the  songs  of  the  Sierras,  and  Edwin  Markham  the 
chant  of  labour.  James  Whitcomb  Riley  has  put 
the  very  heart  of  the  Middle  West  into  his  familiar 
poems,  humorous  and  pathetic. 

260 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

And  Walt  Whitman,  the  "  democratic  bard,"  the 
poet  who  broke  all  the  poetic  traditions?  Is  it  too 
soon  to  determine  whether  his  revolution  in  litera 
ture  was  a  success,  whether  he  was  a  great  initiator 
or  only  a  great  exception?  Perhaps  so.  But  it  is 
not  too  soon  to  recognize  the  beauty  of  feeling  and 
form,  and  the  strong  Americanism,  of  his  poems  on 
the  death  of  Lincoln,  and  the  power  of  some  of  his 
descriptive  lines,  whether  they  are  verse  or  rhap 
sodic  prose. 

It  is  evident  that  such  a  list  of  names  as  I  have 
been  trying  to  give  must  necessarily  be  very  imperfect. 
Many  names  of  substantial  value  are  omitted. 
The  field  is  not  completely  covered.  But  at  least 
it  may  serve  to  indicate  some  of  the  different  schools 
and  sources,  and  to  give  some  idea  of  the  large  lit 
erary  activity  in  which  various  elements  and  aspects 
of  the  Spirit  of  America  have  found  and  are  finding 
expression. 

III.  The  real  value  of  literature  is  to  be  sought 
in  its  power  to  express  and  to  impress.  What  relation 
does  it  bear  to  the  interpretation  of  nature  and  life 
in  a  certain  country  at  a  certain  time?  That  is  the 
question  in  its  historical  form.  How  clearly,  how 
beautifully,  how  perfectly,  does  it  give  that  interpre 
tation  in  concrete  works  of  art?  That  is  the  ques 
tion  in  its  purely  aesthetic  form.  What  personal 

261 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

qualities,  what  traits  of  human  temperament  and 
disposition  does  it  reveal  most  characteristically 
in  the  spirit  of  the  land?  That  is  the  question  in 
the  form  which  belongs  to  the  study  of  human  nature. 

It  is  in  this  last  form  that  I  wish  to  put  the  ques 
tion,  just  now,  in  order  to  follow  logically  the  line 
marked  by  the  general  title  of  these  lectures.  The 
Spirit  of  America  is  to  be  understood  not  only  by 
the  five  elements  of  character  which  I  have  tried  to 
sketch  in  outline, — the  instinct  of  self-reliance,  the 
love  of  fair-play,  the  energetic  will,  the  desire  of  order, 
the  ambition  of  self-development.  It  has  also  cer 
tain  temperamental  traits;  less  easy  to  define,  per 
haps;  certainly  less  clearly  shown  in  national  and 
social  institutions,  but  not  less  important  to  an  inti 
mate  acquaintance  with  the  people. 

These  temperamental  traits  are  the  very  things 
which  are  most  distinctive  in  literature.  They  give 
it  colour  and  flavour.  They  are  the  things  which 
touch  it  with  personality.  In  American  literature, 
if  you  look  at  it  broadly,  I  think  you  will  find  four 
of  these  traits  most  clearly  revealed, — a  strong  reli 
gious  feeling,  a  sincere  love  of  nature,  a  vivid  sense 
of  humour,  and  a  deep  sentiment  of  humanity. 

(i)  It  may  seem  strange  to  say  that  a  country 
which  does  not  even  name  the  Supreme  Being  in  its 
national  constitution,  which  has  no  established  form 
of  worship  or  belief,  and  whose  public  schools  and 

262 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

universities  are  expressly  disconnected  from  any 
kind  of  church  control,  is  at  the  same  time  strongly 
religious,  in  its  temperament.  Yet  strange  as  this 
seems,  it  is  true  of  America. 

The  entire  independence  of  Church  and  State  was 
the  result  of  a  deliberate  conviction,  in  which  the 
interest  of  religion  was  probably  the  chief  considera 
tion.  In  the  life  of  the  people  the  Church  has  been 
not  less,  but  more,  potent  than  in  most  other  countries. 
Professor  Wendell  was  perfectly  right  in  the  lectures 
which  he  delivered  in  Paris  four  years  ago,  when  he 
laid  so  much  emphasis  upon  the  influence  of  religion 
in  determining  the  course  of  thought  and  the  char 
acter  of  literature  in  America.  Professor  Miinster- 
berg  is  thoroughly  correct  when  he  says  in  his 
excellent  book  The  Americans,  "The  entire  Amer 
ican  people  are  in  fact  profoundly  religious,  and 
have  been,  from  the  day  when  the  Pilgrim  Fathers 
landed,  down  to  the  present  moment." 

The  proof  of  this  is  not  to  be  seen  merely  in  out 
ward  observance,  though  I  suppose  there  is  hardly 
any  other  country,  except  Scotland,  in  which  there 
is  so  much  church-going,  Sabbath-keeping,  and 
Bible-reading.  It  is  estimated  that  less  than  fifteen 
of  the  eighty  millions  of  total  population  are  entirely 
out  of  touch  with  any  church.  But  all  this  might 
be  rather  superficial,  formal,  conventional.  It 
might  be  only  a  hypocritical  cover  for  practical  in- 

263 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

fidelity.  And  sometimes  when  one  reads  the  "yellow 
journals"  with  their  flaming  exposures  of  social 
immorality,  industrial  dishonesty,  and  political  cor 
ruption,  one  is  tempted  to  think  that  it  may  be  so. 

Yet  a  broader,  deeper,  saner  view,  —  a  steady 
look  into  the  real  life  of  the  typical  American  home, 
the  normal  American  community,  —  reveals  the  fact 
that  the  black  spots  are  on  the  surface  and  not  in 
the  heart  of  the  country. 

The  heart  of  the  people  at  large  is  still  old-fash 
ioned  in  its  adherence  to  the  idea  that  every  man  is 
responsible  to  a  higher  moral  and  spiritual  power, 
—  that  duty  is  more  than  pleasure,  —  that  life  cannot 
be  translated  in  terms  of  the  five  senses,  and  that  the 
attempt  to  do  so  lowers  and  degrades  the  man  who 
makes  it,  —  that  religion  alone  can  give  an  adequate 
interpretation  of  life,  and  that  morality  alone  can 
make  it  worthy  of  respect  and  admiration.  This 
is  the  characteristic  American  way  of  looking  at  the 
complicated  and  interesting  business  of  living  which 
we  men  and  women  have  upon  our  hands. 

It  is  rather  a  sober  and  intense  view.  It  is  not 
always  free  from  prejudice,  from  bigotry,  from 
fanaticism,  from  superstition.  It  is  open  to  inva 
sion  by  strange  and  uncouth  forms  of  religiosity. 
America  has  offered  a  fertile  soil  for  the  culture  of 
new  and  queer  religions.  But  on  the  whole,  —  yes, 
in  immensely  the  larger  proportion,  —  the  old  reli- 

264 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

gion  prevails,  and  a  rather  simple  and  primitive 
type  of  Christianity  keeps  its  hold  upon  the  hearts 
and  minds  of  the  majority.  The  consequence  of 
this  is  (to  quote  again  from  Professor  Miinsterberg, 
lest  you  should  think  me  a  prejudiced  reporter), 
that  "  however  many  sins  there  are,  the  life  of  the 
people  is  intrinsically  pure,  moral,  and  devout." 
"The  number  of  those  who  live  above  the  general 
level  of  moral  requirement  is  astonishingly  large." 

Now  this  habit  of  soul,  this  tone  of  life,  is  reflected 
in  American  literature.  Whatever  defects  it  may 
have,  a  lack  of  serious  feeling  and  purpose  is  not 
among  them.  It  is  pervaded,  generally,  by  the  spirit 
ual  preconception.  It  approaches  life  from  the 
point  of  view  of  responsibility.  It  gives  full  value 
to  those  instincts,  desires,  and  hopes  in  man  which 
have  to  do  with  the  unseen  world. 

Even  in  those  writers  who  are  moved  by  a  sense 
of  revolt  against  the  darkness  and  severity  of  certain 
theological  creeds,  the  attempt  is  not  to  escape  from 
religion,  but  to  find  a  clearer,  nobler,  and  more  lov 
ing  expression  of  religion.  Even  in  those  works 
which  deal  with  subjects  which  are  non-religious  in 
their  specific  quality,  —  stories  of  adventure,  like 
Cooper's  novels;  poems  of  romance,  like  the  bal 
lads  of  Longfellow  and  Whittier,  —  one  feels  the 
implication  of  a  spiritual  background,  a  moral  law, 
a  Divine  providence,  — 

265 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

"  Standeth  God  within  the  shadow,  keeping  watch  above  his 
own." 

This,  hitherto,  has  been  the  characteristic  note  of 
the  literature  of  America.  It  has  taken  for  granted 
that  there  is  a  God,  that  men  must  answer  to  Him 
for  their  actions,  and  that  one  of  the  most  interesting 
things  about  people,  even  in  books,  is  their  moral 
quality. 

(2)  Another  trait  which  seems  to  me  strongly 
marked  in  the  American  temperament  and  clearly 
reflected  in  American  literature  is  the  love  of  nature. 
The  attractions  of  the  big  out-of-doors  have  taken 
hold  upon  the  people.  They  feel  a  strong  affection 
for  their  great,  free,  untended  forests,  their  swift- 
rushing  rivers,  their  bright,  friendly  brooks,  their 
wooded  mountain  ranges  of  the  East,  their  snowy 
peaks  and  vast  plains  and  many-coloured  canyons 
of  the  West. 

I  suppose  there  is  no  other  country  in  the  world 
where  so  many  people  break  away  from  the  fatigues 
of  civilization  every  year,  and  go  out  to  live  in  the 
open  for  a  vacation  with  nature.  The  business  of 
making  tents  and  camp  outfits  for  these  voluntary 
gypsies  has  grown  to  be  enormous.  In  California 
they  do  not  even  ask  for  a  tent.  They  sleep  d  la 
belle  etoile. 

The  Audubon  societies  have  spread  to  every 
State.  You  will  not  find  anywhere  in  Europe,  ex- 

266 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

cept  perhaps  in  Switzerland,  such  companies  of  boys 
and  girls  studying  the  wild  flowers  and  the  birds. 
The  interest  is  not  altogether,  nor  mainly,  scientific. 
It  is  vital  and  temperamental.  It  is  the  expression 
of  an  inborn  sympathy  with  nature  and  a  real  delight 
in  her  works. 

This  has  found  an  utterance  in  the  large  and 
growing  "nature-literature"  of  America.  John 
James  Audubon,  Henry  Thoreau,  John  Burroughs, 
Clarence  King,  John  Muir,  Ernest  Seton,  Frank 
Chapman,  Ernest  Ingersoll,  —  these  are  some  of 
the  men  who  have  not  only  carefully  described,  but 
also  lovingly  interpreted,  "  nature  in  her  visible 
forms,"  and  so  have  given  to  their  books,  beyond  the 
value  of  accurate  records  of  observation,  the  charm 
of  sympathetic  and  illuminative  writing. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  these  special  books  that  I 
would  look  for  evidence  of  the  love  of  nature  in  the 
American  temperament.  It  is  found  all  through  the 
poetry  and  the  prose  of  the  best  writers.  The  most 
perfect  bit  of  writing  in  the  works  of  that  stern  Cal- 
vinist,  Jonathan  Edwards,  is  the  description  of  an 
early  morning  walk  through  a  field  of  wild  flowers. 
Some  of  the  best  pages  of  Irving  and  Cooper  are 
sketches  of  landscape  along  the  Hudson  River. 
The  scenery  of  New  England  is  drawn  with  infinite 
delicacy  and  skill  in  the  poetry  of  Bryant,  Whittier, 
and  Emerson.  Bret  Harte  and  Joaquin  Miller  make 
267 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

ns  see  the  painted  desert  and  the  ragged  Sierras. 
James  Lane  Allen  shows  us  the  hemp  fields  of 
Kentucky,  George  Cable  the  bayous  of  Louisiana. 
But  the  list  of  illustrations  is  endless.  The  whole 
literature  of  America  is  filled  with  pictures  of  nature. 
There  is  hardly  a  familiar  bird  or  flower  for  which 
some  poet  has  not  tried  to  find  a  distinct,  personal, 
significant  expression  in  his  verse. 

(3)  A  third  trait  of  the  American  temperament 
is  the  sense  of  humour.  This  is  famous,  not  to  say 
notorious.  The  Americans  are  supposed  to  be  a 
nation  of  jokers,  whose  daily  jests,  like  their  ready- 
made  shoes,  have  a  peculiar  oblique  form  which 
makes  it  slightly  difficult  for  people  of  other  nation 
alities  to  get  into  them. 

There  may  be  some  truth  in  the  latter  part  of  this 
supposition,  for  I  have  frequently  observed  that  a 
remark  which  seemed  to  me  very  amusing  only  puz 
zled  a  foreigner.  For  example,  a  few  years  ago,  when 
Mark  Twain  was  in  Europe,  a  despatch  appeared  in 
some  of  the  American  newspapers  giving  an  account 
of  his  sudden  death.  Knowing  that  this  would 
trouble  his  friends,  and  being  quite  well,  he  sent  a 
cablegram  in  these  words,  "Report  of  my  death 
grossly  exaggerated,  Mark  Twain."  When  I  re 
peated  this  to  an  Englishman,  he  looked  at  me  pity 
ingly  and  said:  "But  how  could  you  exaggerate  a 
thing  like  that,  my  dear  fellow?  Either  he  was 

268 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

dead,  or  he  was  alive,  don't  you  know."  This 
was  perfectly  incontestable,  and  the  statement  of  it 
represented  the  English  point  of  view. 

But  to  the  American  incontestable  things  often 
have  a  double  aspect:  first  that  of  the  solemn  fact; 
and  then  that  of  the  curious,  unreal,  pretentious 
shape  in  which  it  is  dressed  by  fashion,  or  vanity, 
or  stupid  respectability.  In  this  region  of  incongrui 
ties  created  by  the  contrast  between  things  as  they 
really  are  and  the  way  in  which  dull  or  self-important 
people  usually  talk  about  them,  American  humour 
plays. 

It  is  not  irreverent  toward  the  realities.  But  for 
the  conventionalities,  the  absurdities,  the  pomposi 
ties  of  life,  it  has  a  habit  of  friendly  satire  and  good- 
tempered  raillery.  It  is  not  like  the  French  wit, 
brilliant  and  pointed.  It  is  not  like  the  English  fun, 
in  which  practical  joking  plays  so  large  a  part.  It 
is  not  like  the  German  joke,  which  announces  its 
arrival  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  It  usually  wears 
rather  a  sober  face  and  speaks  with  a  quiet  voice. 
It  delights  in  exposing  pretensions  by  gravely  carry 
ing  them  to  the  point  of  wild  extravagance.  It  finds 
its  material  in  subjects  which  are  laughable,  but  not 
odious;  and  in  people  who  are  ridiculous,  but  not 
hateful. 

Its  favourite  method  is  to  exaggerate  the  foibles 
of  persons  who  are  excessive  in  certain  directions,  or 

269 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

to  make  a  statement  absurd  simply  by  taking  it 
literally.  Thus  a  Yankee  humorist  said  of  a  certain 
old  lady  that  she  was  so  inquisitive  that  she  put  her 
head  out  of  all  the  front  windows  of  the  house  at  the 
same  time.  A  Westerner  claimed  the  prize  of  inven 
tiveness  for  his  town  on  the  ground  that  one  of  its 
citizens  had  taught  his  ducks  to  swim  on  hot  water 
in  order  that  they  might  lay  boiled  eggs.  Mr.  Dooley 
described  the  book  in  which  President  Roosevelt  gave 
his  personal  reminiscences  of  the  Spanish-American 
War  under  the  title  "Alone  in  Cubea" 

Once,  when  I  was  hunting  in  the  Bad  Lands  of 
North  Dakota,  and  had  lost  my  way,  I  met  a  soli 
tary  horseman  in  the  desert  and  said  to  him,  "I 
want  to  go  to  the  Cannonball  River."  "Well, 
stranger,"  he  answered,  looking  at  rne  with  a  solemn 
air  of  friendly  interest,  "  I  guess  ye  can  go  if  ye  want 
to ;  there  ain't  no  string  on  ye."  But  when  I  laughed 
and  said  what  I  really  wanted  was  that  he  should 
show  me  the  way,  he  replied,  "Why  didn't  ye  say 
so?"  and  rode  with  me  until  we  struck  the  trail  to 
camp. 

All  this  is  typical  of  native  American  humour, 
quaint,  good-natured,  sober-faced,  and  extrava 
gant.  At  bottom  it  is  based  upon  the  democratic 
assumption  that  the  artificial  distinctions  and  con 
ventional  phrases  of  life  are  in  themselves  amusing. 
It  flavours  the  talk  of  the  street  and  the  dinner-table. 

270 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

It  makes  the  Americans  inclined  to  prefer  farce  to 
melodrama,  comedietta  to  grand  opera.  In  its 
extreme  and  degenerate  form  it  drifts  into  habitual 
buffoonery,  like  the  crude,  continuous  jests  of  the 
comic  supplements  to  the  Sunday  newspapers.  In 
its  better  shape  it  relieves  the  strenuousness  and  the 
monotony  of  life  by  a  free  and  kindly  touch  upon  its 
incongruities,  just  as  a  traveller  on  a  serious  errand 
makes  the  time  pass  by  laughing  at  his  own  mishaps 
and  at  the  queer  people  whom  he  meets  by  the  way. 
You  will  find  it  in  literature  in  all  forms:  in 
books  of  the  professional  humorists  from  Artemus 
Ward  to  Mr.  Dooley:  in  books  of  genre  paint 
ing,  like  Mark  Twain's  Huckleberry  Finn  and 
Pudd'nhead  Wilson,  or  like  David  Harum, 
which  owed  its  immense  popularity  to  the  lifelike 
portrait  of  an  old  horse  trader  in  a  rural  town  of 
central  New  York :  in  books  of  sober  purpose,  like 
the  essays  of  Lowell  or  Emerson,  where  a  sudden 
smile  flashes  out  at  you  from  the  gravest  page. 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  shows  it  to  you,  in  The 
Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table,  dressed  in  the 
proper  garb  of  Boston;  you  may  recognize  it  on 
horseback  among  the  cowboys,  in  the  stories  of 
Owen  Wister  and  O.  Henry;  it  talks  the  Mis 
sissippi  River  dialect  in  the  admirable  pages  of 
Charles  D.  Stewart's  Partners  with  Providence,  and 
speaks  with  the  local  accent  of  Louisville,  Ken- 

271 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   AMERICA 

tucky,  in  Mrs.  Wiggs  of  the  Cabbage  Patch.  Almost 
everywhere  you  will  find  the  same  general  tone, 
a  compound  of  mock  gravity,  exaggeration,  good 
nature,  and  inward  laughter. 

You  may  catch  the  spirit  of  it  all  in  a  letter  that 
Benjamin  Franklin  sent  to  a  London  newspaper  in 
1765.  He  was  having  a  little  fun  with  English  edi 
tors  who  had  been  printing  wild  articles  about 
America.  "All  this,"  wrote  he,  "is  as  certainly  true 
as  the  account,  said  to  be  from  Quebec,  in  all  the 
papers  of  last  week,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Canada 
are  making  preparations  for  a  cod  and  whale  fishery 
this  summer  in  the  upper  Lakes.  Ignorant  people 
may  object  that  the  upper  Lakes  are  fresh,  and  that 
cod  and  whales  are  salt-water  fish ;  but  let  them  know, 
Sir,  that  cod,  like  other  fish,  when  attacked  by  their 
enemies,  fly  into  any  water  where  they  can  be  safest; 
that  whales,  when  they  have  a  mind  to  eat  cod,  pur 
sue  them  wherever  they  fly ;  and  that  the  grand  leap 
of  the  whale  in  the  chase  up  the  Falls  of  Niagara  is 
esteemed,  by  those  who  have  seen  it,  as  one  of  the 
finest  spectacles  in  Nature." 

(4)  The  last  trait  of  the  American  temperament 
on  which  I  wish  touch  briefly  is  the  sentiment  of 
humanity. 

It  is  not  an  unkind  country,  this  big  republic, 
where  the  manners  are  so  "free  and  easy,"  the 
tempo  of  life  so  quick,  the  pressure  of  business  so 

272 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

heavy  and  continuous.  The  feeling  of  philanthropy 
in  its  broader  sense,  —  the  impulse  which  makes  men 
inclined  to  help  one  another,  to  sympathize  with  the 
unfortunate,  to  lift  a  neighbour  or  a  stranger  out  of 
a  tight  place,  —  good  will,  in  short,  —  is  in  the  blood 
of  the  people. 

When  their  blood  is  heated,  they  are  hard  hitters, 
fierce  fighters.  But  give  them  time  to  cool  down, 
and  they  are  generous  peacemakers.  Abraham 
Lincoln's  phrase,  "With  malice  toward  none,  with 
charity  for  all,"  strikes  the  key-note.  In  the  "mild 
concerns  of  ordinary  life"  they  like  to  cultivate 
friendly  relations,  to  show  neighbourliness,  to  do 
the  useful  thing. 

There  is  a  curious  word  of  approbation  in  the 
rural  dialect  of  Pennsylvania.  WThen  the  country 
folk  wish  to  express  their  liking  for  a  man,  they  say, 
"He  is  a  very  common  person,"  — meaning  not  that 
he  is  low  or  vulgar,  but  approachable,  sympathetic, 
kind  to  all. 

Underneath  the  surface  of  American  life,  often 
rough  and  careless,  there  lies  this  widespread  feeling : 
that  human  nature  everywhere  is  made  of  the  same 
stuff;  that  life's  joys  and  sorrows  are  felt  in  the  same 
way  whether  they  are  hidden  under  homespun  and 
calico  or  under  silk  and  broadcloth;  that  it  is  every 
man's  duty  to  do  good  and  not  evil  to  those  who  live 
in  the  world  with  him. 

T  273 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  AMERICA 

In  literature  this  feeling  has  shown  itself  in  many 
ways.  It  has  given  a  general  tone  of  sympathy  with 
"the  under  dog  in  a  fight."  It  has  led  writers  to 
look  for  subjects  among  the  plain  people.  It  has 
made  the  novel  of  American  "high  life"  incline 
generally  to  satire  or  direct  rebuke.  In  the  typical 
American  romance  the  hero  is  seldom  rich,  the  villain 
seldom  poor. 

In  the  weaker  writers  the  humane  sentiment 
dwindles  into  sentimentality.  In  the  stronger  writers 
it  gives,  sometimes,  a  very  noble  and  manly  note. 
In  general  you  may  say  that  it  has  impressed  upon 
American  literature  the  mark  of  a  moral  purpose, 
—  the  wish  to  elevate,  to  purify,  to  fortify  the  mind, 
and  so  the  life,  of  those  who  read. 

Is  this  a  merit  or  a  fault  in  literature?  Judge 
for  yourselves. 

No  doubt  a  supremely  ethical  intention  is  an  in 
sufficient  outfit  for  an  author.  His  work  may  be 

"  Chaste  as  the  icicle 

That's  curded  by  the  frost  from  purest  snow 
And  hangs  on  Dian's  temple," 

and  yet  it  may  be  without  savour  or  permanence. 
Often  the  desire  to  teach  a  good  lesson  bends  a  book 
from  the  straight  line  of  truth-to-the-facts,  and  makes 
a  so-called  virtuous  ending  at  the  price  of  sincerity 
and  thoroughgoing  honesty. 
It  is  not  profitable  to  real  virtue  to  dwell  in  a  world 
274 


SELF-EXPRESSION  AND  LITERATURE 

of  fiction  where  miracles  are  worked  to  crown  the 
good  and  proper  folk  with  unvarying  felicity  and 
to  send  all  the  rascals  to  prison  or  a  miserable  grave. 
Nor  is  it  a  wise  and  useful  thing  for  literature  to 
ignore  the  lower  side  of  life  for  the  sake  of  com 
mending  the  higher;  to  speak  a  false  and  timid 
language  for  fear  of  shocking  the  sensitive;  to  evade 
the  actual  problems  and  conflicts  which  men  and 
women  of  flesh  and  blood  have  to  meet,  for  the  sake 
of  creating  a  perfectly  respectable  atmosphere  for 
the  imagination  to  live  in. 

This  mistaking  of  prudery  for  decency,  this  un 
willingness  to  deal  quite  frankly  with  life  as  it  is, 
has  perhaps  acted  with  a  narrowing  and  weakening 
effect  upon  the  course  of  American  literature  in  the 
past.  But  just  now  there  seems  to  be  a  reaction 
toward  the  other  extreme.  Among  certain  English 
and  American  writers,  especially  of  the  female  sex, 
there  is  a  new  fashion  of  indiscriminate  candour 
which  would  make  Balzac  blush.  But  I  suppose 
that  this  will  pass,  since  every  extreme  carries  within 
itself  the  seed  of  disintegration. 

The  morale  of  literature,  after  all,  does  not  lie 
outside  of  the  great  circle  of  ethics.  It  is  a  simple 
application  of  the  laws  which  embrace  the  whole  of 
human  life  to  the  specific  business  of  a  writer. 

To  speak  the  truth;  to  respect  himself  and  his 
readers;  to  do  justly  and  to  love  mercy;  to  deal 
275 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   AMERICA 

with  language  as  a  living  thing  of  secret  and  incal 
culable  power;  not  to  call  good,  evil,  or  evil,  good; 
to  honour  the  noble  and  to  condemn  the  base;  to 
face  the  facts  of  life  with  courage,  the  humours  of 
life  with  sympathy,  and  the  mysteries  of  life  with 
reverence;  and  to  perform  his  task  of  writing  as 
carefully,  as  lovingly,  as  well  as  he  can,  —  this,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  the  whole  duty  of  an  author. 

This,  if  I  mistake  not,  has  been  the  effort  of  the 
chief  writers  of  America.  They  have  spoken  surely 
to  the  heart  of  a  great  people.  They  have  kept  the 
fine  ideals  of  the  past  alive  in  the  conflicts  of  the 
present.  They  have  lightened  the  labours  of  a 
weary  day.  They  have  left  their  readers  a  little  hap 
pier,  perhaps  a  little  wiser,  certainly  a  little  stronger 
and  braver,  for  the  battle  and  the  work  of  life. 

The  measure  of  their  contribution  to  the  small 
group  of  world-books,  the  literature  that  is  universal 
in  meaning  and  enduring  in  form,  must  be  left  for 
the  future  to  determine.  But  it  is  sure  already  that 
American  literature  has  done  much  to  express  and 
to  perpetuate  the  Spirit  of  America. 


276 


HERBERT   CROLY'S 

The  Promise  of  American  Life 

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full  content  and  to  re-read  American  history  in  the  light  of  these  devel 
oped  ideas  cannot,  of  course,  be  made  light  literature ;  but  the  author 
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"  '  The  Promise  of  American  Life  '  will  beyond  doubt  be  recognized  by 
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of  his  book.  He  writes  with  a  free  pen  and  is  both  apt  and  keen-witted 
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One  chapter,  for  instance,  which  will  attract  very  special  attention  is  that 
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